


Robin, The Boy Wonder

by UMdancer98



Category: Batman (1966), Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Catwoman is not a nice person, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gen, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14485959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UMdancer98/pseuds/UMdancer98
Summary: Robin is the proud owner of his nickname for a reason and this isn't the first time he's had to prove it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Batman and Robin are loosely based off the 1960s TV show but go back and forth between genres and are sometimes completely out of any characterization. I write it the way it enters my head, which is not always "historically" accurate. Italics usually represent thoughts to oneself but are sometimes used to add emphasis. Thanks for reading!

** Chapter 1: **

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._  

            The two costumed, duly deputized agents of the law were in the Batcave, perfecting the latest Bat-machine, when the familiar beeping echoed around the walls.  Batman left Robin standing by the Interdigital Bat-sorter and strode to the Batphone.

            “Yes, Commissioner?”

            “Good morning, Batman.  I have a…a…”  The commissioner paused and the hero became concerned. 

            “A what, Commissioner?”

            “…choo,” the quiet sneeze bounced through the receiver of the Batphone.  “A rather plain envelope here on my desk,” the man continued. 

            “What is inside this seemingly inconspicuous envelope, Commissioner?” Batman inquired.  There was no reply and Batman’s concern grew.

            “Commissioner?”

            “Sorry, Batman,” the man wheezed slightly.  “I’ve been a little under the weather.”

            “I understand,” the hero replied.  “Please continue.”

            “Well, the envelope is addressed to ‘Robin, The Boy Wonder’ so I didn’t open it.  What would you like me to do?”

            “It’s only for Robin?”  Batman was surprised and noticed his partner glance over when he heard his name.

            “That’s what it says: ‘Robin, The Boy Wonder’.”  Batman’s eyes widened at the somewhat angry manner in which the commissioner spoke.  The man was sick, though, so the hero attributed the tone to the illness.

            “Thank you, Commissioner.  Can you stay in your office for a little while longer?  I’ll send him down to Headquarters to pick it up.”

            “Is it okay if I…I…ah-CHOO!…leave it with Bonnie?” came the congested-sounding reply.

            Batman opened his mouth to say ‘yes’ but the Batphone had already been disconnected.

            “Strange,” the Caped Crusader murmured as he hung up his end.

* * *

            Robin was grinning.  Batman had said _his_ name and that he would send “ _him_ ” down to Headquarters.  “Him” meant the Boy Wonder, he was sure of it, and the teenager was almost jumping up and down like a fourteen-year-old boy.  It was just to HQ but Batman was going to let him go alone!

            Quickly quashing the immature reaction, the sixteen-year-old forced a questioning look on his face and impatiently waited for his partner to explain the situation.  Batman was staring at the Batphone, one eyebrow raised quizzically.  Robin heard the word ‘strange’ and hoped the man wasn’t going to change his mind because there was something unusual about his conversation with the commissioner.  Resisting the urge to fold his arms across his chest and begin tapping his foot, the Boy Wonder instead dropped his eyes to the closest file – the Business Bat-index Machine – and began rifling through it.  He wasn’t looking for anything specific, he merely wanted to appear like he hadn’t heard any part of the conversation and, therefore, had no idea what Batman was going to say.

* * *

**Commissioner Gordon’s office:**

            A short man with dark, angry eyes hung up the Batphone.  Rushing to the door of the commissioner’s office, the brown-haired criminal carefully turned the handle and silently opened it.  Glancing quickly around, and seeing nobody, he tossed a plain white envelope onto the secretary’s desk then turned back to the office.

            “Yes, it’s a lovely day.”  The cheery voice of a young woman rang through the short hall between the stairwell and the commissioner’s office.  “I think I’ll lunch in the park.  Bye, now!”

            The man raced inside the office then quietly closed and locked the door.  Running to the open window, he climbed over the ledge just as the handle of the door rattled.

            “Not in yet.  I have time to fix my wind-blown hair.”

            The murmuring of Commissioner Gordon’s secretary was the last thing the short stooge heard as he grabbed his rope and climbed down the wall.  Chuckling, he realized that the Dynamic Duo would call this Bat-climbing.  _Idiots – not everything is about you!_

            Jumping the last two feet, the criminal wiped his sweaty forehead and strolled toward the end of the block.  The young boy at the entrance to the alley across the street squinted his eyes then ran off to tell his friends.  He had just seen _Batman_ , in his normal identity, Bat-climbing down the outside wall of Police Headquarters! 

* * *

            Glancing over at Robin, Batman briefly wondered why the boy was searching in that particular file.  The index of Gotham City businesses had nothing to do with anything they had been doing since coming down to the Batcave.  A slight grin slid across the man’s face when he recognized, from his young partner’s body language, that the Boy Wonder was attempting to contain his excitement.  Robin had been listening to the conversation between Batman and Commissioner Gordon and knew that he was about to be allowed to go to Headquarters alone.

            Shaking his head in amusement, the Caped Crusader walked over to his partner.

            “There is an envelope in Commissioner Gordon’s office addressed to you.  Since it is your property, you should go pick it up.  Use the Batcycle.”

            “Okay!” Robin nearly shouted then turned and raced to the small vehicle.

            “Robin!”  Batman’s commanding voice stopped the Boy Wonder in his tracks.

_Please don’t change your mind._   The younger half of the Dynamic Duo slowly turned around and waited for the bad news.

            “You are to go straight to Headquarters and straight back.  No joy-riding or wandering around.  Do I make myself clear?”

            “Yes, sir!” Robin replied with a mock salute.  Straddling the Batcycle, the teenager revved the engine and prepared to take off.

            “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Batman inquired, mirth surrounding the words.

            Robin checked the gauges and tested the brakes.  Everything seemed fine so he glanced at the tires.  They were obviously full and the Boy Wonder was disappointed in himself.  What a great way to start his solo mission.  What had he missed?

            Batman watched his partner checking the Batcycle and allowed a small chuckle to escape.  Robin looked at him, confusion on his face, and the Caped Crusader couldn’t hold back a laugh.

            “Do you really need the sidecar, Robin?  Are you planning to take someone with you?  If not, it’s only going to slow you down.”

            Frowning, and feeling like an idiot, the teen shook his head and pushed the button to jettison the sidecar.  Not daring to look at his partner, Robin revved the engine again and sped out of the Batcave.

            The man grinned; his kid was growing up but still had a lot to learn.

* * *

**Police Headquarters:**

            Robin made good time.  It was just after eight-thirty in the morning and most people were already at work.  He had hit almost every green light and it had only taken him nine minutes to get to Headquarters.

            Parking the Batcycle in the Batmobile’s usual spot, the Boy Wonder hopped off the seat and jogged up the stairs to the entrance.  It was very routine – striding past the front desk with a wave, walking up the single flight of stairs and entering the outer area of the commissioner’s office, where Bonnie the secretary was typing away on her monstrous computer.

            “Good morning,” Robin greeted cordially.  She hummed a reply, her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked through a particularly difficult paragraph in one of the commissioner’s complicated reports.

            Shrugging, the Boy Wonder walked past her desk and raised a fist to knock on the door that had the words ‘Commissioner Gordon’ stenciled in black.  Before he had the chance to knock, Bonnie glanced up and saw the identity of the visitor.

            “Robin!” she nearly shouted while patting down her black hair with both hands.  Bonnie harbored a secret crush on the boy and was always happy to see him.  He was only a few years younger, seven if you wanted to be exact, and she figured that the age difference wouldn’t matter once he became a man.

            Grinning, the teenager turned back to face her.  “Good morning,” he repeated.  “Is Commissioner Gordon busy or can I go in?”

            “Of course you can go right in!” she exclaimed, a light blush arising on her pale cheeks.  Nodding in acknowledgement, Robin turned toward the door.  

            “Oh, silly me,” Bonnie stated.  “He’s not in right now but I found this on my desk when I came in this morning.”  She held up a plain white envelope with the words ‘Robin, The Boy Wonder’ printed neatly on the front.

            Robin reached for the small envelope but she quickly pulled it out of his reach.  The teenager raised his eyebrows in surprise and Bonnie smiled.

            “This looks suspiciously like an invitation,” she declared.  “Is there someone I should know about?  A girl, perhaps?”  She giggled while secretly hoping that the Boy Wonder was still single.

            Playfully rolling his eyes, Robin replied, “I’m sure you would know if there was a girl, Bonnie.  Batman is so famous that if his sidekick started dating it would be all over the news.  So, to answer your question, there’s no girl.”

            “Don’t be so impertinent, young man,” Bonnie teased before handing him the envelope.  “Batman isn’t the only one famous around here.”

            “Oh, yeah, Bruce Wayne,” Robin smirked and the secretary shook her head, merriment dancing in her sparkling hazel eyes.

            “You are too modest, Robin,” she giggled again.  “I’m sure there are plenty of girls who would love to date you.  They just lack the courage to assert themselves in your presence.  So, like most males, you don’t notice it.”

            This time it was Robin who blushed as he realized that she was _flirting_ with him!  She was so much older, though!  Shaking the thought away, he opened the envelope and pulled out a glossy, golden and lightly-perfumed sheet of paper while trying to pretend that she wasn’t staring at him. 

            His eyes quickly skimmed the contents and his face became serious.  Going back to the beginning, he carefully read each sentence then slowly crushed the paper into a tiny ball.  Bonnie watched his expression morph into one of anger and sighed.  He was so handsome, especially when he looked ready to take down a villain who was hurting an innocent person.  And that’s how he looked right now, concern mixing with the anger as he glared at the crumpled paper.

            “Thanks,” he muttered curtly before turning around and striding out the door.  Bonnie sighed again.  He was so heroic and athletic and strong and funny and…

            Reluctantly derailing that train of thought, Bonnie turned back to her computer and resumed typing.

* * *

            Robin raced down the hall, trying to reach the stairs before releasing his frustration.  He didn’t want to scare Bonnie so he had rudely left without a proper farewell.  Hopefully she hadn’t taken it personally.  An apology would be expected but he had other things to focus on right now.

            The door banged loudly as he shoved it open and stepped into the dimly lit stairwell.  It shut itself and Robin, with fury lining his youthful features, punched the wall before sitting down on the top step.  Straightening out the crushed ball, he re-read the short “invitation”:

            ‘Dearest Boy Wonder: You are cordially invited to attend an important function celebrating…YOU!  The hostess of this party is the amazingly delightful Catwoman, who will entertain the hostages…captives…guests with tales of your stupidity until you arrive.  The festivities will begin at 8:30 this morning.  If you are not in attendance by 9:00, which is considered fashionably late, one of the guests will be shot in the head.  If you choose not to attend at all, every single guest will meet an untimely end and it will be your fault.

            Your taller, darker and much more handsome companion is not invited to this gathering.  If I see any hint of blue – be it a cape, a uniform, a glove, a cowl or any other part of that extraordinarily attractive man – then the blood of every guest will be on your tiny, teenage hands.  Think carefully before deciding what to do and then, if you are even smart enough to make a choice, choose wisely.

            I look forward to your attendance so I can watch you die in person.  See you at the Gotham City Museum of Art, the side entrance, at or before 9:00 AM!’

            Robin ran his right hand through his dark hair as he looked at the words “hostages” and “captives”.  Both had been lightly crossed out, ensuring that he would still be able to read them.  The bottom of the paper had a picture of a black cat holding a dead yellow bird in its mouth and was signed by Catwoman.

            It wasn’t really a surprise to him – Catwoman was _very_ vocal about the fact that she wanted Robin permanently out of her way – but he had been so excited to receive something that was just for him.  He should have known it would be a ruse.  Why would anyone invite _him_ anywhere without also inviting Batman?  Batman…should he pull out his Bat-communicator and tell his partner about the situation?  Shaking his head, he quickly discarded that thought.  Batman would want to take over and Robin didn’t want anybody to die because he, the Boy Wonder, couldn’t handle a simple hostage situation by himself.

            He suddenly remembered that it had been after eight-thirty when he had arrived at HQ.  Pushing his glove away from his wrist, Robin glanced at his Bat-watch – 8:54!  Immediately jumping to his feet, the teenager sprinted down the stairs then through the hallway and into the bright sun.  The museum was only a few blocks away; he could make it.

            Straddling the Batcycle, the Boy Wonder pushed off and raced through the light traffic flowing down the street.  He ran a red light, nearly causing a three-way collision, but ignored the honking horns and upset voices of the other motorists.  This meant life or death for someone at the museum so a car crash didn’t matter that much in the scheme of things.

            He was watching the Bat-clock on the handlebars of the Batcycle.  It had just reached nine o’clock as he sped to the side entrance of the museum.  There was no time to park so he jumped.  The Batcycle slid away, falling on its side and slamming into a row of rose bushes.  Robin was flying to the ground but at the last second he tucked into a forward roll.  Instantly popping up, and with only a slight scrape on his left arm, the teenager practically flew up the steps and burst through the door.

            A bullet shattered a vase to his right as he slid to a stop in the lobby.  There were four men in tiger-striped shirts, a group of terrified-looking hostages sitting on the ground and one Catwoman smiling in satisfaction.  Each man held a Cat-gun pointed at the small clump and Robin noticed several child-sized heads in the middle of the group.

            “Welcome, Boy Blunder,” Catwoman said sweetly.  “Thank you for joining us.  Our distinguished guests were beginning to worry that you might not be coming.” 

            Robin stared at her while evaluating the situation.  Four Cat-guns and the hostages in a group.  They were sitting ducks; there was no way he could take out all four guns before someone received a bullet.

            “Let them go,” he demanded.  “It’s me you want, right?  So let them go.”

            “You are in no position to make any demands, kid,” she declared.  “I have four armed men and what do you have?  You.  Just little ol’ you with no Bat to back you up.  I’m assuming that your tiny brain cells were able to make a wise decision and leave him behind.”

            Glaring at her, Robin nodded.  He glanced at the men and noticed names printed across their shirts: Felix, Leon, Tom and Tab.  Rolling his eyes, the Boy Wonder almost started laughing.

            “What original names you guys have,” he said sarcastically.  “Felix the cat – from a cartoon show, Leon – Spanish for lion, Tom – an alley cat is also called a tomcat and Tab – a shorter version of a mixed breed called a tabby cat.  Wow, did you think of those yourselves?”

            The largest one, Leon, let out a growl and this time it was Catwoman who rolled her eyes.

            “Boys, stay calm.  He’s a mouthy kid and there are four of you.  No need to get upset…yet.”  She grinned as she spoke to them while still staring at Robin.

            “Toss me your utility belt, little bird,” Catwoman’s lilting purr was somehow also commanding, “or one of these innocent people will receive a deadly shot.”

            Indecision raced through the eyes of the Boy Wonder – call the bluff or comply with the demand?  She always had Cat-guns but he had never seen a bullet exit one of their barrels and he assumed they were just for show.  Then he remembered the shattered vase.

            Slowly, Robin unbuckled his utility belt and tossed it in her direction.  He couldn’t take any chances, especially with children in the group of hostages.  The teenager had fought many times without the use of his belt and he was called the Boy Wonder for a reason.  All he had to do was disarm four men at once, without any weapons, and then take them down in a fight without allowing anyone else to get hurt.  No problem.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who gave me kudos! :) This chapter is kind of slow moving, sorry. But there is more action in the next chapter, I promise! ;)

** Chapter 2: **

**Commissioner Gordon’s office:**

            “Good morning, Bonnie,” the cheerful voice of Commissioner Gordon greeted the young secretary and she looked up.

            “Good morning, sir,” she replied and watched as both he and Chief O’Hara crossed the room to the office door.  Should she tell him about the envelope?  No, she had no idea what it was so there was no point in bothering the commissioner about it.  But Robin had been angry after reading it; what if it was something important?  Bonnie shook her head, annoyed at her stupidity.  If it was _that_ important then Robin would talk to Batman and, if necessary, they would contact her boss.  Shrugging, the secretary turned back to her work as the commissioner and his trusty chief disappeared into the office and closed the door.

            Several minutes later a young woman glided through the door.  Her heart-shaped face was framed by shiny, black ringlets and her pastel yellow dress hugged her feminine curves.  Bonnie was suddenly self-conscious in her formal office clothing and what she now thought to be drab-looking hair pulled back with a headband.  Was this the girl who had left the envelope for Robin?           

            Narrowing her eyes as the young lady approached her desk, Bonnie smiled as politely as she could and asked, “What can I do for you, miss?”  The words were clipped and the tone was slightly unprofessional but the secretary couldn’t help it.

            “I have something for the commissioner,” the mysterious woman answered in a soft, lilting voice with a trace of an accent.

            _France?_   Bonnie pushed the thought aside and was glad that Robin had left almost twenty minutes ago.  Most men were suckers for accents and French was an especially beautiful one.

            “Thank you, just place it on my desk,” Bonnie instructed and waited for the lady to comply.

            “I’m sorry, madame, but I was told to put it directly in the hands of Commissioner Gordon.”  The dark-haired beauty smiled engagingly and held up a small, brown box.

            _Madame?_   Now Bonnie was really irritated.  She was definitely _not_ a madame and this was _her_ office.  “The commissioner is busy at the moment, in a meeting with Chief O’Hara.  I will be happy to give it to him when the chance arises.”

            “No, thank you, I will wait.”

            The woman took a seat in one of the two chairs against the wall on Bonnie’s right side.  The secretary almost growled but re-directed her attention to her computer’s monitor and continued typing.

            One minute later the intercom rang and Bonnie groaned internally.  Now the lady was going to insist on seeing the commissioner and the secretary would have no reason to keep her away.

            “Bonnie, please bring me yesterday’s report about the robbery on Main Street.  The one that Batman and Robin thwarted, not the other one.”

            “Mmmm, Robin,” the mysterious lady murmured appreciatively, her emerald eyes sparkling as an image of the handsome young man presented itself in her mind.  Bonnie had seen that look before, usually in the mirror after an encounter with the teenage crime-fighter, and was now struggling against the desire to crawl across the desk and fight for her man.  Well, hopefully he would be her man in a few years.

            “Yes, sir,” she replied to the commissioner’s request instead.  Turning to the filing cabinet behind her, Bonnie opened the third drawer and pulled out the first paper.  She was very organized and knew exactly where things had been placed.

            The young secretary stood up and didn’t even glance at the gorgeous woman who was now also standing.  Instead, Bonnie strode through the door of the commissioner’s office and walked straight to his desk.

            “Thank you,” Commissioner Gordon accepted the paper then raised his eyebrows.  “And who is this young woman?” he inquired, looking past his secretary.

            Bonnie rolled her eyes; she should have closed the door!  The woman approached the commissioner’s desk and he stood to greet her.  Without saying anything, she carefully placed the box down then turned and walked out the door.

            “Miss?” Commissioner Gordon called but the ‘click-clack’ of the woman’s expensive shoes had already disappeared.

            She didn’t want to ask but it was part of her job.  “Should I go find her, sir?” Bonnie inquired.  Relieved when the commissioner shook his head, the secretary turned and exited his office.  Hopefully that woman would go back to France and forget about Robin.

            “Well, that was strange,” Commissioner Gordon commented.

            “Sure an’ it was, sir,” Chief O’Hara replied.  “Are you going to open it?”

            The commissioner looked thoughtful.  “There is no evidence of criminal activity so I don’t see the harm in doing so,” he responded.  Cautiously he pulled apart the first two flaps of the box.  Nothing happened so he opened the final two. 

            Both men peered inside and saw a large, white poster board folded into quarters.  They glanced at each other, a question in their eyes, then the commissioner took it out.  Chief O’Hara moved the box onto the floor and Commissioner Gordon spread the poster across his desk.  Running his hands from the middle to the side edges, he flattened it out as much as possible.

            “Is that what I think it is?” the chief inquired, disbelief in his voice.  They were staring at some sort of map with a large X in five random areas.  Each X was labeled with a number.

            “What could it mean?” the commissioner murmured.  There was a short pause as both men glanced toward the small table that held a red phone under a glass top.

            “Chief, there is only one man who can figure this out.”

            “You mean…?”

            “Indeed I do, Chief.”  The commissioner began the short trek to the Batphone but before he could get there his chief of police chuckled.  Turning around, the white-haired man looked inquisitively at the dark-haired man.

            “There’s a note on one of the flaps, sir,” Chief O’Hara stated.  “I don’t know how we missed it!  We’re being sent on a scavenger hunt, no doubt set up by me men.  It is, after all, your tenth year of bein’ Commissioner.  Officer Stone’s wife is an event planner; she probably put this whole thing together!”

            Commissioner Gordon sighed then shook his head with a slight grin.  The chief handed him the note and the commissioner read it out loud:

            ‘Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara: Follow the map to find the treasures you will need when you arrive at the end of the hunt.  Do not miss any, for all will be necessary.  Good luck and see you at the finish line!’

            It was the commissioner who chuckled this time as relief flooded his chest.  This map wasn’t anything nefarious; it was a celebratory treasure hunt.

            “Well, Chief, should we begin?”  The chief took charge of the map and the two men walked out of the commissioner’s office.

            The first X was marked in the lobby of Police Headquarters.  They began by talking to the officers working around the area but all of them denied any knowledge of a treasure.

            “Commissioner, what’s that?”  Chief O’Hara was pointing under the water fountain next to the entrance.  There was a small, black object taped to the wall and the chief went to retrieve it.

            Confusion filled the man’s face as he returned to the commissioner’s side.  It was long, skinny and shaped like a cylinder.

            “Maybe we need all the parts before we can figure it out,” the commissioner stated.  Glancing down at the map, they followed the lines out the front door and continued their hunt for the “treasure”. 

* * *

**The Batcave:**

            “He should have returned by now, Alfred!”  Batman’s voice was worried and he was pacing from the Bat-computer to the Batmobile and back again.  “It’s been over an hour!”

            “Yes, sir, I agree,” the butler’s tone was also full of concern for the younger crime-fighter.  “Perhaps it was something that required his immediate attention.”

            “If it was that important, wouldn’t he call me on the Batphone or use his Bat-communicator?”

            “Master Robin is intelligent, sir, and if the envelope contained information regarding criminal activity, I’m sure he would have called for backup.”

            “Not if he wants to prove himself,” Batman murmured so softly that Alfred almost didn’t hear him.

            “Well, he is beginning to spread his wings, sir,” Alfred smiled gently.

            Shaking his head, he was not ready for that to happen, Batman remained silent as he concentrated on what he knew.

            First, the envelope was addressed to “Robin, The Boy Wonder”.  Not Batman and Robin, not the Dynamic Duo, not the Caped Crusaders or any other nickname the citizens of Gotham City applied to them.

            Second, Robin had to go to Police Headquarters to pick it up.  It was innocent enough; a plain envelope in the commissioner’s office.  The teenager was smart enough to bring it back to the Batcave if he was concerned about what was inside.  It could just be another invitation to speak at Woodrow Roosevelt High.  The students had enjoyed Robin’s crime-fighting lecture and demonstration; Batman wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted him to return. 

            Third, Robin had been gone for over an hour with no communication.  The boy was very conscientious and would have contacted the Batcave if he knew he was going to be late.  Of course, if he was on the Batcycle in heavy traffic he wouldn’t use his Bat-communicator.  Motorist safety had been drilled into his head since he was fourteen and Robin wouldn’t flippantly disregard the safety of others.  His own safety, yes, but not that of innocent people.

            Finally, the Boy Wonder was sixteen.  He was growing up and needed at least a little space.  Batman decided to give his partner one more hour.  If the boy didn’t contact him by ten-thirty, the Caped Crusader would call the commissioner.

            Satisfied with his decision, Batman went back to work on the Interdigital Bat-sorter.  But his “Robin-is-in-danger” antenna was quivering slightly and a thought began pulsing in the back of his mind.  He tried to push it away but it refused to leave:

            _Something is very wrong._

* * *

            Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara had stopped for an early lunch.  They had collected four of the five items that were “necessary” for whatever they were going to be doing at the end of this mysterious game.  The items were so totally random that the men had no idea what to do with them.  There was the black cylinder, what looked like a small plastic wallet with a large circle of tiny holes on one side, a tiny silver battery and an oval-shaped red button with ridges running vertically around the entire thing.

            “Well, Chief,” said the commissioner after swallowing the last bite of his sandwich, “shall we continue?  Our last stop is the Gotham City Museum of Art,” he stated as he glanced down at the map.

            “I sure am glad we took a squad car, Commissioner,” the chief replied.  “That museum is all the way across town!”

            “Then we should be on our way, before your men decide to give up on us,” the commissioner said with a smile.  They had been out for almost two hours already and the map wasn’t very long.

            Returning the smile, Chief O’Hara stood up, placed some money on the table and they strolled out of the diner.  The men walked to the black and white patrol car, climbed in and began the drive to the Gotham City Museum of Art.

* * *

**Twenty minutes later:**

            The gray, three-story building came into view and Chief O’Hara stopped the car at the bottom of the short flight of stairs.  Exiting the vehicle, both men looked around uncertainly.  They had been expecting a contingent of police officers ready to greet them and begin a celebration.  But there was nobody around.  The museum itself looked deserted.  There were no patrons entering or exiting through the ornate double doors that marked the entrance to the building, although there were several cars in the parking lot on the right.

            “What now, Commissioner?” Chief O’Hara asked as he turned in a slow circle, searching for people or clues.

            “I’m…I’m not sure, Chief.”  Silence reigned for three minutes as both men continued to visually examine their surroundings.

            “Commissioner!” the chief suddenly exclaimed as he looked up at the sky.  There was an object floating on the gentle breeze and they squinted in an effort to see it better.

            It landed on the sidewalk in front of them with a quiet ‘clink’.  Chief O’Hara bent down to grab it and his eyes narrowed.  An open umbrella with a long, silver metal box attached to the handle.  He handed it to the commissioner, who briefly frowned in confusion before snapping open the two latches on the front of the mysterious object.

            Now the men were really puzzled: some screws, a screwdriver and a roll of silver duct tape.  Commissioner Gordon gave the box to the chief and, as he did so, a small piece of paper slid out and drifted to the ground.  The commissioner snatched it out of the air and began to read:

            ‘Welcome, Commissioner and Chief, to the celebration!  I hope you have acquired all the parts because now you get to build.  Using the pictures on the back of these instructions, put the treasure together and then you’ll know what to do.  Have fun!’

            The commissioner turned the paper over and nearly rolled his eyes.  There were four simple pictures and the end result was a walkie-talkie!  What were the police officers going to do with this instrument?  Then a terrible thought ambled into his mind.  A walkie-talkie was sometimes used in criminal negotiations.  An umbrella in the wind – Penguin!

            “Put it together quickly, Chief.  I fear that we are dealing with a villainous bird, not a contingent of celebrating policemen!”

            “You mean…Penguin?!”  the chief gasped.

            “Quite possibly,” the commissioner responded grimly, holding up the umbrella as if to prove his point.

            The object was relatively easy to construct; it took the chief only two and a half minutes to have everything tightened. 

            “Now, let’s find out what we’re dealing with, shall we?”  Commissioner Gordon took the device and pressed the red button on top.

            “Hello?” he said loudly.  There were several seconds of static and then he received a reply.

            “Commissioner, you made it, how delightful,” a soft, female voice purred through the receiver.  “I wasn’t sure you and your bumbling chief would be able to figure it out all by yourselves.”

            Both men were shocked.  _Catwoman_?!

            “What are you playin’ at, Catwoman?” Chief O’Hara yelled.

            Completely ignoring the chief, Catwoman continued, “I have a _very_ valuable hostage in here, Commissioner.  One that I’m sure you don’t want to lose.  Shall I tell you or would you like to guess?”

            There was a beat of silence and then the villainess giggled.  “You’re not even going to try to guess, Commissioner?”

            “I’m not interested in your games, Catwoman!” the commissioner stated.  “How many hostages do you have in there?”

            “Oh, about eleven or twelve,” the villainess said flippantly.  “I haven’t really counted; I’ve been so focused on keeping the little bird in line.  Oops, silly me; I just gave you a hint!  I’m sure even your dunce of a chief can figure it out now,” she giggled again.

            Commissioner Gordon turned to Chief O’Hara.  With distress in his voice, he quietly stated, “We need Batman.”

            The chief’s face had gone pale and he whispered, “We don’ have a Batphone here!  What should we do?”

            “Are you there, Commissioner?” Catwoman purred through the static.

            “Call Headquarters and have Bonnie use the receiver in my office to connect us to the Batphone,” the commissioner whispered and the chief scurried away.

            “Let the hostages go, Catwoman!” the commissioner demanded in his most authoritative voice.

            “Now why would I do that?” she replied elegantly.  “I need them.”  There was a quick pause and then the villainess continued, “Actually, I only need _some_ of them.  Let me count heads and figure out how many I need.  Then I _might_ let some of them go.  TTFN!”

            _TTFN_?  The walkie-talkie was emitting only static now and the commissioner was left pondering what those four letters could mean.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those of you who subscribed or gave me kudos!

** Chapter 3: **

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._   Batman raced to the Batphone and snatched up the receiver.

            “Yes, Commissioner?”

            “I’m sorry, sir, but this is Bonnie, the commissioner’s secretary.  He is out of his office but wishes to speak with you.  Will you hold just a moment while I connect this receiver to his office phone’s receiver, please?”

            _Why would the commissioner be out of his office when he was supposed to meet Robin there?  Something is very wrong._   The thought that had been bouncing around in the back of his mind asserted itself.

            “Batman?” the secretary’s voice brought him out of his thoughts.

            “Yes, I’ll hold.  Make it quick, please,” he almost growled but attempted to hold it back.  It wasn’t her fault that Commissioner Gordon was gone, along with Robin.

            Nine seconds.  Batman was counting and it took nine long seconds for Bonnie to connect the receivers and the commissioner to begin speaking.

            “Batman?  We have a situation,” Commissioner Gordon stated.  He suddenly felt woefully inadequate; his first thought after realizing that this was a hostage situation had been to call the Caped Crusader.

            “What kind of situation?” Batman demanded.

            The commissioner sighed and shoved the thoughts away; it was, after all, Catwoman.

            “Catwoman is in the Gotham City Museum of Art and has secured herself and several hostages inside.”

            Batman squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

            “How many?” he growled, hoping that Robin was outside with the commissioner instead of inside with the wily villainess.

            “She said eleven or twelve.  She stated that she wasn’t…” the commissioner really didn’t want to repeat what he had been told but he did it anyway.

            “…that she wasn’t sure because she had been trying to keep a little bird in line.  I’m assuming that she meant Robin.”

            “I’ll be right there,” Batman growled again as he opened his eyes.  He really wanted to know how Robin had gone from picking up an envelope at Headquarters to being a hostage in the art museum but there was no time for the commissioner to explain that now.

            Slamming down the Batphone, he glanced at Alfred as he ran toward the Batmobile.

            “Hostages at Gotham City Museum of Art and the police think that Robin is one of them,” he quickly explained before climbing in and roaring away.

            Alfred sighed.  Shaking his head, he accepted the situation with five words: “Of course he is, sir.”

* * *

**Earlier, in the Gotham City Museum of Art:**

            “Sit down, kid,” Catwoman demanded.  Robin was standing completely still, counting exits and examining the various creations, most of which were designed by world-renowned artists.  Some of them could be used as weapons – expensive but effective.  The statue of a fisherman that was five feet to his left had a crack in the right shoulder.  The arm could easily be yanked off and used as a club.  The Boy Wonder was suddenly snatched out of his musings. 

            “I said _sit down!_ ” the villainess yelled this time and the tallest of the four henchmen, Felix, pointed his gun at a young teenager.  The kid began trembling violently and Robin quickly dropped to his knees.

            “Now tie him up,” she said to the nearest goon.  The muscular frame of Leon was instantly looming over the much smaller frame of the Boy Wonder.  The man, before striding over, had grabbed the Bat-rope out of Robin’s utility belt.

            “This is ridiculous,” Robin muttered.  “You guys aren’t even smart enough to bring rope.”  It was a comment, not a question, and Leon grinned.

            “We have rope,” he assured the teenager, “but it’s more fun to tie up a baby Bat with his own rope.  Also, the one you have is stronger than anything we could ever get.” 

            To prove his point, Leon shoved Robin’s arms flat against each other behind his back, wrapped the rope around his torso several times to secure his arms in place then pulled the knots tight.  The Boy Wonder grunted as his shoulders were forced into an impossible position that sent waves of pain rolling up and down his arms.  The rope was tight across his chest – tighter than it needed to be – and the teenager’s ribs were squished against each other, making it difficult to breathe normally.  The henchman was right: Bat-rope was strong enough to make Robin want to stay completely motionless.  If he shifted even an inch, shockwaves bolted through his body and bright lights flashed around the edges of his eyes.  So he decided to remain still.  For now. 

            He also decided that keeping her attention on him would be safer for the cluster of hostages.  So, sighing dramatically, Robin asked, “Catwoman, what are we doing here?  If this is another ploy to get Batman to go out with you then it’s not a very smart one.  He doesn’t get along well with people who take hostages.”

            “This is not about him at all,” she replied.  “Why do you think the invitation was only addressed to you?  I don’t even want to _see_ Batman this time.  It’s all about you, sidekick.”

            “Fine, then tell me what you want.  And let everyone else go.  I’m the only one you need, right?  So let them walk out of here alive and uninjured.”

            “Wellllll,” Catwoman mewed softly, “they are insurance policies.  You see, I can’t keep just you and expect your older, wiser and much more handsome partner to stay out of my way.  I _need_ you and Batman will want to keep _them_ safe.  He will stand down as long as I have innocent people trapped in my paws.”

            Rolling his eyes, Robin retorted, “He knows I can take care of myself.  If you tell him to stay away, he’ll do it.  I’m perfectly capable of fighting my own battles.  Just let them,” he flicked his head toward the other hostages, “go.”

            “Hmmm,” the villainess sarcastically agreed, “you certainly are rather capable.  I’m scared for my life knowing that at any moment you are going to break out of your tight bonds and take me down with your bare hands.”

            Snarling, the young crime-fighter pushed himself up to standing.  The knives slicing down his arms made him wince and there were suddenly two people who looked like Catwoman.  He ignored the pain and shook his head to clear his vision.

            “Aw, poor thing.  Does it hurt to move?  Maybe I should have Leon untie you.”

            “Good idea,” Robin managed to growl through clenched teeth.  He watched as Catwoman nodded to the strong henchman, who looked confused.

            This time it was Catwoman who rolled her eyes.  “Go help him, Leon!” she commanded and the goon’s eyes brightened with understanding.

            The teenager knew what was coming but was caught off-guard when it was a size sixteen shoe to the chest instead of a large fist to the face.  His torso couldn’t fold in to protect itself because of the position of his arms so his ribs took all of the impact.  The kick knocked him onto his back and sent him sliding several feet away from Catwoman, where his head hit the legs of an elderly man who looked like he was close to passing out.

            Leon was grinning and Catwoman nodded her head in satisfaction.  Robin growled; that’s not how this was going to play out.

            “That’s better,” he yelled breathlessly.  “Thanks!”  He tried to keep the pain from entering his tone but knew he hadn’t succeeded very well.  There had been no cracking sounds so nothing was fractured or broken – that was good.  His ribs were going to be very, _very_ bruised, though.  The joints in his shoulders hadn’t popped yet so that was another good thing.  They were throbbing, _a lot_ , but at least he would be able to move them when the time came.  Breathing was painful but not enough to stop him from getting the oxygen he needed.  Luck was with him, so far.

            “Are you okay, sonny?” came a shaky voice from above him and Robin looked up.  The old man was completely bald except for some thin tufts of white hair around his ears.  The skin under his eyes was saggy and the blue-gray circles were filled with weariness.  But there was a small flame burning behind the fatigue and Robin realized that this person could become a good ally.  Not physically, of course, but it was obvious from the elderly man’s expression that he was not even remotely afraid.

            The wind had been knocked out of him but Robin had recovered quickly.  A slight grin lit up his young face as he whispered, “Yeah, thanks.  Do you happen to have a pocket knife?”

            “Would I be a normal, eighty-year-old man if I didn’t have one?” the man countered quietly with a tiny, wrinkly grin of his own.  Robin’s grin turned into a smirk.  He definitely had an ally, one with a sense of humor.

            “I’m Richard, by the way.  Do you want it now?”

            Carefully shaking his head, Robin said softly, “Can you just have it ready for me?  I need to form a plan before I can attack.”

            Richard nodded and Robin chuckled in his head.  He, Richard John Grayson aka Robin, had an octogenarian partner named Richard who was going to help him fight crime.

            “Good name,” Robin whispered before pulling himself up to sitting.  None of the criminals were looking directly at them so the Boy Wonder studied the four henchmen.  Every man would have a weakness and he needed to find it.   

            Felix was an idiot; he was holding his Cat-gun backwards.  The teen was disappointed in himself.  He should have noticed that because, if he had, he wouldn’t be on the ground securely tied up.  Robin had seen a Cat-gun many times and there was no excuse for his lack of observation.

            Leon was strong and the way he had spoken to Robin indicated intelligence.  Catwoman had been lucky to find him; the villain world was short on smart goons.  The smallest one, Tom, was shrewd-looking and the Boy Wonder was worried about what would happen if that one became upset.  The fourth one, Tab, couldn’t take his eyes off his boss; it would be easy to take him out.

            “Will you please start cutting the Bat-rope?” Robin asked quietly as a plan began to develop in his keen young mind.  He was still watching the goons but heard the soft swish of a pocket knife and felt movement across his arms.  The old man wasn’t very strong; the strokes were going back and forth rather slowly.  The teenager should have asked him to start working on the Bat-rope right away.  But it was too late for that; the slow slicing would have to do.

            The Boy Wonder re-directed his thoughts and considered his options.  Leon or Tom?  The former looked like he would be slow on his feet and the latter would be quick to react to anything.  Tom seemed more volatile so he would have to be taken down first, followed by Leon.  By the time he was done with those two _maybe_ Felix would understand that they were under attack.  Tab would probably just sit down and watch Catwoman as she moved around the room, avoiding the fight while yelling at her goons.

            The villainess was on a walkie-talkie now and Robin berated himself for not paying attention to her.  He could hear Commissioner Gordon’s voice but couldn’t quite make out the words.  Catwoman said “little bird” and Robin internally groaned.  Batman was about to find out that Robin had allowed himself to become a hostage.  The man had finally let him go do something alone and it had resulted in being captured.

            “This is so awesome,” he mumbled and the henchman named Tab glanced over.  But Robin wasn’t moving so the man returned his attention to the villainess. 

            An interesting question ambled through his mind.  If Catwoman didn’t want Batman to attend the “party”, why was she on a walkie-talkie and taunting Commissioner Gordon?  Surely she knew that the commissioner would call Batman, who would immediately jump in the Batmobile and come to the museum.  Tossing the thought aside for now, Robin glared at the ground, prepared his muscles and counted to three. 

            Catwoman had just turned off the mode of communication and all four of her men were staring at her, waiting for instructions.  She was facing the hostages and the henchmen had their backs to the people.  Richard, the old man, wasn’t even close to being done with the Bat-rope – he had merely loosened it slightly – but Robin couldn’t waste this opportunity.  From his sitting position, the Boy Wonder suddenly jumped to his feet and sprinted straight for Tom.

            Her eyes widened in surprise and Catwoman was too impressed to react quickly.  By the time she opened her mouth to warn Tom, he was already on the ground.  Robin, his arms still tight behind his back, had jumped into a front layout and hooked his knees around the goon’s shoulders.  Using the man like a high bar, the Boy Wonder had swung himself up, causing Tom to lose his balance and fall forward.  The man’s head hit the ground – face first – and there was a sickening crunch, followed by a rapidly growing pool of blood under his forehead.

            The pain was intense but he had effectively taken care of Tom.  Robin’s feet hit the ground at the same time as Tom’s face and he easily regained his balance.  Leon was directly behind him and the teenager could feel the air moving around.  Ducking, he spun around and shoved his left shoulder into Leon’s solar plexus.  The man grunted as his meaty fist swung over Robin’s head and he stumbled backwards.

            Leon, however, was more than a stray kitten that Catwoman had dragged in off the street.  Instantly recovering, he advanced on the panting Boy Wonder, his hands clenched and daggers shooting out of his eyes.

            Using his shoulder as a weapon had been a mistake.  In the back of his mind, Robin had known that fact but his reaction had been automatic.  An arm flying over his head meant that a chest was exposed and he had been taught to take advantage of that.  Robin had used the closest part of his body when he should have used one that _wasn’t_ a throbbing volcano ready to explode.  Colors were gliding along the edges of his vision, his arms were threatening to break themselves in half and his torso loudly protested every inhalation of air.  But he had only taken down one man; there were still three left.  If he could just get through Leon, everything would be fine.  The other two would be easy and then he would find a way to free the hostages and arrest Catwoman.

_Just take down Leon.  Big muscles, obviously a power fighter, probably slow, no big deal._

            Robin watched Leon’s right fist drive itself toward his face and he bent his knees in preparation to both receive and retaliate.  _Just get through Leon._

* * *

            The museum was precisely seventeen minutes away from the Batcave.  Batman was pushing the Batmobile almost to its limit and arrived in twelve.  Squad cars surrounded the block building and Commissioner Gordon was standing by the one directly in front of the entrance.  There was a large, black walkie-talkie in his hand and Batman was surprised.  How did the commissioner get close enough to give one to Catwoman?  Especially since Robin was inside?  Tossing the thought aside for now, he exited the Batmobile and walked toward the entrance.

            “Give me the details,” he demanded after joining the commissioner and Chief O’Hara.

            “Ten to twelve hostages and she will, hopefully, be sending some out.  Her exact words were ‘I need some of them’ so I don’t know how many will be set free.  And I don’t know why she would need them.”

            “You can be sure that Robin won’t be one of them,” Batman growled and the two men nodded in agreement.  “What does she want?”

            “I have no idea,” Commissioner Gordon replied.  “Apparently taunting us about a valuable hostage, whom I assume to be Robin, and then deciding to release a few others are the only things on her mind right now.”

            “There has to be something she wants!” the Caped Crusader nearly yelled and both men flinched.  Grabbing the walkie-talkie, he pressed the button to communicate.

            “What do you want, Catwoman?” he growled but received only static in reply.  He tried again, and a third time but there was still no answer.

            Suddenly, six people came running out of a side entrance – two males, one female and three young boys.  Police officers and paramedics immediately surrounded them but Batman pushed through them all.

            “Tell me what’s happening in there!” he commanded and the woman immediately took charge.

            “Catwoman has four men, each with a gun.  An old man, two more women, a teenager and Robin are still inside.  She and two of her men took us to the side door while Robin was occupied with fighting the biggest man.  He already took out one but seems to be injured and the second guy is more powerful than the others.  Robin is fighting with his arms tied behind his back and no utility belt.”  The woman was succinct and Batman was grateful for her efficiency.

            “Wait!” she cried as Batman turned away.  “Richard has a pocket knife hidden by his left leg.  He was releasing his bonds but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to take out the men.”

            Batman’s breath caught in his throat.  Richard?!

            “Who?” his voice was on the verge of trembling and he forced the sound away.  Had Robin’s identity been exposed?

            “Richard, the old man.  Sorry, I meant Richard is ready to release _Robin’s_ bonds, not his own.  Robin is the only one restrained in any way.  _Robin_ is the one who took the opportunity to attack the men even though _Richard_ hadn’t finished cutting all the way through the rope.”  The woman shook her head, obviously disappointed in her lack of clarification.

            “Can you describe his bonds in detail?” Batman asked while relief flooded his mind.  _His_ Richard had not been discovered.

            The woman opened her mouth to answer but the three young boys suddenly jumped in the conversation.

            “His arms are squished flat against each other behind him!” the seven-year-old exclaimed.  “The bad man used Robin’s rope from his utility belt and tied him up!”  He scowled; bad guys weren’t supposed to touch utility belts.

            “The rope is wrapped around his body and his breathing sounded off,” the ten-year-old quietly added.  “I think his ribs are pushed together so tightly that they are constricting his lungs.  They aren’t fully operational so it’s going to be hard for him to continue breathing with the way he’s fighting.”  The adults stared at him in surprise and he shrugged.  “I like anatomy.”

            “Everyone was mad,” the four-year-old muttered, upset that Robin had looked angry.  The Robin in all the pictures was always grinning and the young child didn’t understand why the Boy Wonder had sounded so mean.

            “When the big guy kicked him in the chest, Robin’s body stayed straight as a board as he fell back,” one of the men stated.  “It looked like he couldn’t absorb the impact because his shoulders are stretched so far behind him.  His arms are completely connected and I’m surprised they aren’t broken.”

            _Tied up with his own Bat-rope, lungs constricted and kicked in the chest with no way to protect his ribs?!_   Batman was furious but kept the emotion in check.  Young children were impressionable and he didn’t want to scare them.

            “Did you hear anything, any cracking or popping sounds?” Batman demanded.  All six people shook their heads and the relief flooded his chest this time.

            “But everything was happening so fast,” the same man said.  “I don’t know that any of us would have been able to hear specific sounds unless we were consciously listening for them.”

            The hero abruptly turned and strode away, leaving the adults staring at him in surprise and the kids watching him in awe.  They had just seen _Batman_ , up close, and talked to him!  Robin was cool, too, but…they had just talked to _Batman_!

            “Wait!” the second man called.  Batman turned around and stared at him expectantly.  “Can I have your autograph?” the man grinned and the hero growled at him, disgust obvious in his eyes.  Robin was in trouble, along with four other hostages, Catwoman and at least three henchmen obviously had the situation under control and this man wanted his _autograph_?!

            “Get out of my sight!” Batman snarled and everyone immediately backed away.  Five helpful people, three of them _kids_ , and one idiot.  Shaking his head, he walked over to the commissioner and grabbed the walkie-talkie again.

            “Catwoman, talk to me!” the hero demanded and was surprised when her delicate voice replied.

            “This discussion will have to wait, Batmaaaan,” she drew his name out lovingly.  “I’m watching a bird try to escape from a cat.”

            There was only static again and Batman began pacing.  He couldn’t just burst through any of the doors.  There were still four other innocent people and Batman had no doubt that Catwoman wouldn't feel bad if one of them was injured.  Robin was on his own for now.  The Boy Wonder was strong and could handle himself.  But, if the descriptions of his condition were accurate, he would soon run out of energy.

            Pressing the communication button again, Batman yelled into the walkie-talkie.  “I want proof of life, Catwoman!  NOW!” he demanded and the static ceased again.

            “Well, sure, I can understand that.  Say hello to Batman everyone!”

            Four voices simultaneously began yelling for help.  One was old and shaky, the two feminine voices sounded terrified and the youngest one had been crying.

            “Robin!” Batman roared and the other voices immediately stopped.  There was heavy breathing, erratic breathing and the sound of flesh pounding flesh.  A heavy thud, some gasping and then a loud cracking sound accompanied by a yelp of pain.  The last noise came from his partner, there was no mistaking that cry, and Batman tightened his grip on the walkie-talkie.

            “Did you catch that?” Catwoman purred as the sounds in the background ceased.  “Your boy is alive and is, I mean _was_ , doing quite well.  Don’t worry too much; I need him to stay alive.  And I need you to stay out of my way so don’t even think about trying to find a way inside.  TTFN!”  The static returned and Batman almost threw the black object at the nearest vehicle in frustration.

            “Ta ta for now,” the hero growled.  She was toying with him but at least Robin was still aware enough to fight.  He had been, anyway.  And she needed him alive.  Batman had no idea why, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about his partner dying.  For now. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who gave kudos!

** Chapter 4: **

**Back in the museum:**

            There was no way to avoid the hit; Robin recognized that fact.  However, he didn’t have to allow the large hand to smash his nose.  Twisting to his right, he took the blow directly on his left shoulder and briefly gazed in awe at the resulting fireworks that exploded in his mind.  His attention shifted when he realized that Leon’s torso was exposed again. One burly fist was connecting with Robin's shoulder while the other was swinging behind him – the muscular chest was practically begging for a collision with something solid.

            The Boy Wonder didn’t waste obvious opportunities, even though he wanted to drop to the floor and rest.  So, he untwisted back toward the henchman and threw his right leg at the man’s ribs.  Leon’s arm didn’t get there in time to protect himself and the kick folded him in half.  Effortlessly switching his weight, Robin thrust his left foot at the goon’s face, striking him squarely on the jaw.  The henchman’s head whipped back and he was almost sent sprawling to the ground.  Surprisingly, he was athletic enough to catch himself with his left hand and spin his body around to stand up again.

            _Awesome._   The word was sarcastically growled in Robin’s head.  Connecting those two strong moves should have thrown his opponent to the ground, giving the young crime-fighter an advantage.  Catwoman had found a diamond in the rough when she had picked up this guy.

            There had been one good thing that had come from Leon’s meaty fist slamming into Robin’s shoulder: the Bat-rope had loosened a little more.  He still didn’t have much room to move but he could separate his arms slightly.  Jerking them apart would be painful but would also cause him to be able to release at least one arm.

            Scowling, Robin backed away from Leon and began repeatedly shoving his arms against the Bat-rope.  Now he couldn’t see anything except shooting stars because of the burning, non-stop pain rushing through the limbs.  But, he could hear heavy footsteps pounding toward him.  His senses would be stronger if he stopped moving so he did.  There was a pause and the Boy Wonder assumed that Leon had been surprised at his decision.

            Robin slowed the motion of his arms, taking them from a vigorous jerk to a soft yet strong squirm.  He shut down the rest of his body so he could hear sounds and feel movement around him.  Batman had forced him to train blind-folded a few weeks ago, twice, so the teenager was slightly confident in his new ability.  The sparkling stars were essentially blinding him and he was going to thank Batman for that unusual training method when this was all over.

            “What are you doing?!” Catwoman yelled when her largest goon stopped in confusion.  Robin was jerking his arms around behind himself and she was worried that he might somehow be able to get out of his restraints.  But now the boy’s eyes were squeezed shut – probably in an attempt to block out the pain – and he was standing almost completely still.

_Weak baby bird._   The villainess smirked slightly as the insult raced through her mind.  Her henchman wasn’t moving, staring at her and waiting for instructions.  Had he suddenly become an idiot?  Leon had an advantage, why was he wasting the opportunity?

            Throwing her right arm in Robin’s direction, Catwoman shouted, “Go after him!”

            Leon heard frustration in the tone and immediately obeyed, quickly deciding how to take out the kid.  A fist to the side of the head would definitely knock him out and, since the boy’s eyes were shut, he wouldn’t even know it was coming.

            Quietly circling toward his right, the strong man approached the Boy Wonder from the side and raised his fist.  The teenager hadn’t moved at all and Leon was confident that he was about to easily win this fight.

            The pounding had stopped but the footsteps were still there.  Robin didn’t know how such a large man could move so lightly on his feet but he wasn’t going to ponder that right now.  Soft puffs of dust being tossed in the air were giving away the henchman’s movements; he was going to Robin’s left side.  Leon seemed more like a boxer so the teenager guessed that the man would use his fists instead of his legs.  Robin hoped his guess was correct because, if not, he would be going toward the attack instead of avoiding it.

            Silence reigned throughout the room.  Richard, the old man, wanted to shout out the goon’s location but knew something bad would happen to somebody if he did.  The young teenager, however, wasn’t as wise.

            “Look out!” the boy yelled and Felix, who had gone back to pointing his gun at the hostages, slapped the kid on the head.  The fourteen-year-old burst into tears and the sound distracted Robin.  He missed the heavy breath that signaled the arrival of a fist and, instead of his planned duck and counterattack, the Boy Wonder instinctively leaned back.  His eyes flew open and he found that the previously bright, flaming stars had been replaced by tiny pinpricks of color that danced through the thin, gray mist that was his vision.  The backward movement gave him just enough space to slide his left arm out of the Bat-rope and he quickly threw it across his body.

            The Boy Wonder had been correct in this assumption.  Leon, after following through on the miss, had immediately turned around.  His left fist swung toward Robin’s face but his momentum was going away from the boy.  Robin’s left arm easily blocked the punch and then it was the small fist that flew toward the big head.

            Robin, however, also missed.  Leon came back on the offensive and the Boy Wonder began alternately dodging and attacking.  He only had the use of his left arm – somehow his right arm still didn’t have enough room to escape – so the henchman was getting in some pretty good hits.  The teenager was getting tired, his attacks were slowing down and most of his punches were now glancing off the muscular body of the large man.

            Leon’s right fist connected with Robin’s chin, snapping his head back and causing him to drop his left arm.  The henchman took advantage of this opportunity, throwing his left fist into Robin’s ribcage.  The Boy Wonder yelped in pain as a bone on the left side of his body cracked and he dropped to his knees.  The man was going to finish him off but Catwoman raised her hand.  She had just finished using the walkie-talkie and was walking toward the two fighters.

            “Leave him conscious.  Good try, kid, but Leon is pretty much unbeatable.”  Leon grinned at the compliment, Robin tried to catch his breath and Catwoman pranced away.

            “We’ll finish this later,” the large henchman growled.  He pushed the palm of his right hand against Robin’s forehead and the Boy Wonder fell to his back.  Leon listened to the irregular breathing and chuckled as he walked away.

            With a pain-filled smirk, Robin carefully pulled his right arm out of the Bat-rope but kept both limbs hidden underneath him.  His torso and shoulders were killing him but at least he was free.  Advantage for now – Catwoman and Leon.  Advantage for later – Robin.

* * *

            Batman had circled the entire building and was becoming increasingly frustrated.  If he went in the side door, where the freed hostages had exited, he would immediately be seen and something bad would happen to someone innocent.  He obviously couldn’t go through the front entrance.  The back was a possibility, unless she had a henchman guarding the door.  If she did, going that way would end in the same result as going to the side. 

            A Bat-a-rang and Bat-rope had been taken out of his utility belt earlier but had quickly been replaced in their pockets.  The large windows on the ground floor would give away his position.  The second and third floor windows were made of thick, nearly unbreakable glass.  If he went to the roof he would have to drop through one of the three skylights, which were all about sixty feet above the floor.

            The snarled words echoed in his mind: “And I need you to stay out of my way so don’t even think about trying to find a way inside.”

            If she didn’t want Batman here, why had she taunted Commissioner Gordon about her “valuable” hostage?  Catwoman _had_ to know that the commissioner would use the Bat-phone as soon as he found out about Robin.  _Another question to file away for later_. 

            He decided that he couldn’t risk it; Robin would have to get everyone out.  But the fighting sounds had ceased after the cry of pain.  His partner was either unconscious or too injured to resume battling.  The other two henchmen had probably joined in the fight.  Three on one with Robin having difficulty breathing and his arms tied behind his back.  Batman wanted to believe that everything was fine, his partner was strong, but the odds were stacked against him.  _Very_ stacked against him.  The Caped Crusader wasn’t even sure that _he_ could win a fight like that.

_What does she want with him?!_

            “Commissioner, give me the walkie-talkie,” Batman demanded and the commissioner handed it over.  She probably wouldn’t answer; it had only been four and a half minutes since she had given him proof of life.  But there was no harm in trying.

            Pushing down the button, he growled, “Catwoman, talk to me.”

            Static for several seconds and then her voice rang through the speaker.

            “Now what?” she sighed.  “I don’t have all day to just stand here and talk to you.  It’s not about you…this time.”

            “Release everyone,” Batman demanded.  “You won’t like what happens if you don’t free every single one of the innocent citizens you are holding captive.”

            “And _you_ won’t like what happens if I do,” she retorted, “because then I will have no choice but to kill your little sidekick.  He will be dead before the last hostage even walks out the door.  Your threats are empty, my handsome hero.”  The last sentence was purred seductively and Batman clenched his jaw in anger.

            “What do you _want with him_?” he shouted but received no reply.  Handing the walkie-talkie back to the commissioner, Batman closed his eyes and began searching his brain.  What could be in the museum that would require her to keep Robin alive?

* * *

            “Okay, boys, let’s make like a tree and leaf,” Catwoman giggled at her own wit and Robin, still lying on the floor, rolled his eyes.

            “Felix, tie them up,” she commanded, pointing to the other four hostages.  “Wait!  I’ll let one of them go as a distraction.”  Tapping her right index finger against her lips, the villainess paced in front of her captives.

            “You,” she pointed to the old man.  “It will take you a while to get out the door.  Stand up,” she commanded.  The elderly man shook his head in defiance and Catwoman raised her eyebrows.

            “I’m releasing you, don’t you want to be freed?”

            “No,” Richard replied softly.  “My life is nearly over while his,” a wrinkly hand pointed to the young teenager, “is just beginning.  Let him go.”

            Catwoman thought that over then shrugged.  “You do have a point.  I would hate to waste the life of a young boy.  Except that one,” she added as an afterthought, throwing her thumb in the direction of the wheezing Boy Wonder.

            She looked at Felix, realized his Cat-gun was backwards and rolled her eyes.  Glancing at Tab, she frowned.  The man was useless; he hadn’t taken his eyes off her since they had arrived at the museum.  He was a liability so he would be the one to walk the boy out the door.  She could live with only two henchmen.  Felix was dim-witted but he would at least be able to watch over three weak hostages.  And Leon could easily take care of Robin if the kid tried anything.

            “Stand up,” the villainess pointed to the fourteen-year-old and he slowly rose to his feet.  “Felix, Leon, tie the others up,” she commanded and the henchmen began to obey.

            Prancing over to Tab, she purred, “I have a verrrry important job for you.  Do you think you can do it for me?”  The man, worship shining in his eyes, nodded.

            “I need you, after I leave this room, to count to thirty and then walk the boy out the front door.”

            Tab frowned; he didn’t want to leave his gorgeous boss.

            “Don’t worry,” she continued sweetly, “you can catch up with us.  I just need someone strong and reliable to make sure the boy doesn’t try to escape too quickly.  Can I count on you to do that?”  Catwoman walked the golden tips of her fingers up his chest and lightly tapped him on the nose.  Tab nodded again and she smiled.

            Turning back to the young teen, she said, “Come over here, boy.”  When he arrived, she took his left wrist and locked it in a handcuff.  Then she locked the other cuff around Tab’s right wrist.

            “Remember,” she purred again, “count to thirty.  Understand?”  Then she walked away and called to the two henchmen she had left.

            “Felix, start walking them to the back.  Leon, grab the sidekick.”

            “What about Tom?” Felix asked and Catwoman shrugged.  The man was still lying face-down on the floor and not moving.

            “He’s not useful anymore,” she declared.  He had been a good goon, quick to anger and strong when filled with that emotion.  “Can’t keep ‘em all,” she grumbled and began walking toward the back door.   

            Tab watched her walk away.  He had an important job but wanted to be with his beautiful boss again as quickly as possible.

            “One, two, ten, twenty, thirty,” he mumbled and began pulling the young teenager toward the front door.

* * *

            “Here comes another one!” the cry came from a policeman close to the building.  A young teenager and a man wearing a tiger-striped shirt were walking out the front entrance.  Their strides were awkward and the cause of that was soon obvious – they were handcuffed to each other.

            Commissioner Gordon, Chief O’Hara and Batman raced up the short flight of steps.  The man was obviously a henchman.  Why had she sent a henchman out with a hostage?

            “What’s going on?” Batman growled but the man just glared at him.  The boy, his green eyes puffy and his cheeks stained with tears, decided to speak up.

            “Robin lost the fight and I’m a distraction!” he exclaimed.  Tab glanced over at him and frowned.  This was not what he was expecting to happen.  He was supposed to walk the kid out then go meet Catwoman in the back.

            Lifting his left hand, Tab tried to slap the boy across the face.  The arm of Chief O’Hara blocked the weak motion and suddenly the henchman’s arms were behind his back.  Batman had swiftly released the teenager from his side of the handcuffs while Tab was glaring at the kid and now the goon was wearing both of them. 

            “Catwoman, help!” he yelled as he was led away to the nearest squad car.

            “A distraction?” Batman turned his attention to the boy.  “Explain!”

            The kid, who was unconsciously rubbing his sore left wrist, replied, “She’s going out the back, sir!  She has the old man and two women all tied up.  Felix, one of her guys, is leading them while Leon, that’s the bigger one who beat Robin up, is carrying Robin.  Catwoman is last and she left Tom lying on the floor.  Robin knocked him out before fighting Leon.  And the old guy got Catwoman to agree to let me go instead of him!”  The teenager paused to take a breath and Batman didn’t wait around to hear anything else.

            There were two important things the boy had told him: Robin had lost the fight and Catwoman was going out the back.  What was the boy’s definition of “beat up”?  The thought shot through Batman’s mind as he sprinted toward the back of the building.  On the ground injured but awake or completely unconscious with injuries all over his body?

            A loud roar made the hero realize that he should have gone to the Batmobile instead.  He turned the corner and saw a struggling Robin being shoved into the back of some kind of large vehicle that he was sure Catwoman was calling the “Catmobile”.

            “Robin!” he roared as he increased his speed.

            Both the Boy Wonder and the muscular man holding him stopped moving and stared in the direction of the sound.  Robin recovered from the surprise first and kicked his legs out at the goon.  The man grunted audibly as the boy’s strong legs smashed into his stomach but he pushed against the attack and succeeded in getting Robin in the car.

            “Go!” the henchman yelled to the front seat as he jumped in after the Boy Wonder.  The Catmobile lurched forward then flew down the back road away from the center of Gotham City.

            Batman jumped but fell flat on his stomach on the dirt.  The bumper had been just out of his reach and, instead of making his way up the vehicle, he was left staring at the wheels.  There was a flurry of movement in the backseat; Robin was still attempting to escape.  That man was big, though, and the space was so small.  His partner would easily be subdued and there was nothing Batman could do except watch the car drive out of sight.

            Standing up, the hero quickly examined the area.  There was no trail of blood, not even any droplets, so Robin was okay.  He was probably banged up but he had still been able to struggle and was strong enough to kick his attacker.  The Boy Wonder could deal with bruises and the teenage hostage hadn’t said anything about any other cracking sounds.  Robin was capable of handling this situation, so far, but Batman was worried about what would happen when Catwoman decided that she didn’t need the boy anymore.

* * *

            Leon was coming over to him again and Robin realized that he should have left his right arm tied up.  If the henchman saw that he was free, the man would just tie him up again, probably tighter than he had before.  The teen slid both arms back into the circle of Bat-rope that was still wrapped around his torso.  This wasn’t going to work; Leon was smart enough to notice that the bonds were slack.  So Robin was surprised when the big man snatched him up off the ground without a second glance.  Catwoman was speaking to Tab, flirting with him would be a better way to describe it, and Leon was glowering at the sight.

            Robin smirked; all of her henchmen were enamored with her.  That piece of knowledge would give him another advantage when they arrived at their next destination.  Keep them focused on her and take them down.  Felix would be first this time, the Boy Wonder decided, because he would be easy to knock out.  Then he could use all of his strength against Leon without having to conserve enough energy to fight someone else.

            They were suddenly outside and the bright sunlight was assaulting his eyes.  Leon was trying to shove him into some kind of large, weird-looking car and Robin decided that staying at the museum would be better for him.  So he began fighting against the strong arms that were pushing his upper body into the back seat.

            “Robin!”  The Boy Wonder heard the roar and was both surprised and disappointed.  Batman was here in time but now _he_ was going to save Robin instead of Robin saving himself.

            Leon was frozen in astonishment and Robin thrust his legs at the man’s gut.  The henchman briefly lost control of the Boy Wonder when he felt the strong kick but he wasn’t a light weight.  A _kid_ , even one trained by Batman, wasn’t going to defeat him.  Instead of backing away from the pressure in his stomach, Leon placed his right hand on Robin’s ribs and pushed him into the car.

            Robin’s breathing hitched as pain exploded in his torso.  It felt like the big man was trying to break all the bones in his chest and that would definitely hinder his ability to fight.  So the Boy Wonder allowed himself to fall back into the car.  The area was small and he was squished in tightly when the henchman joined him.  Robin’s back was against the locked door and his knees were nearly touching his chin. 

            “Go!” Leon shouted at Catwoman and she pushed hard on the gas pedal.

            Robin decided to try one last thing before giving in to his captor.  Quickly bringing his right arm to the front of his body, he pushed the Emergency Bat-transmitter under the ‘R’ on his chest.  Leon, however, saw the movement.  The henchman threw Robin’s hand away, grabbed the material on the boy’s chest and ripped it away from his torso.  Staring at the Boy Wonder in triumph, and receiving Robin’s version of a Bat-glare in return, Leon tossed the letter and tracker out the window.

            “Stop fighting around back there!” Catwoman yelled.  “I can’t concentrate!  Knock him out if you have to!”

            Grinning, Leon lifted his right fist and slammed it into the left side of Robin’s head.  The teen tried to duck but there was no space and his world went black.

* * *

            _Beep beep._   Batman grabbed his Bat-communicator as he stalked through the back door of the museum.  The young kid had said there was still a henchman inside.  Maybe the guy knew where Catwoman was going.

            “Robin activated his Emergency Bat-transmitter, sir!” Alfred exclaimed.  “He’s less than a mile away from the museum!”

            “What?!  Are you sure?!” Batman demanded.

            “Absolutely, sir, unless it’s broken.”

            The henchman could wait.  Batman saw the commissioner standing over the motionless body of a man wearing a tiger-striped shirt.

            “I need to talk to him, Commissioner!” the Caped Crusader yelled before turning around and sprinting out the back door.  Why did she need Robin?  He pondered that question as he ran and, three minutes later, saw a blinking red light on the unpaved road.  The Emergency Bat-transmitter was working fine but it was in the wrong spot.  That was why his partner had still been struggling in the backseat – he was activating the tracker.  But the big guy had been strong enough to tear through the fabric of the Boy Wonder’s tunic and smart enough to toss it out the window of the car.

            He was still holding his Bat-communicator.  “I found it, Alfred, but it’s not with Robin,” Batman stated angrily.  “It’s lying here on the dirt road and there’s nobody in sight.  I have a goon to talk to,” he growled, “then I’ll return to the Batcave.”

            “Would you like me to begin a search for something on the Bat-computer, sir?”

            “I don’t know where to start but if you can think of something then go ahead.  I have absolutely no ideas as to why Catwoman would _need_ Robin alive.  She used that specific word: need.  But why?” the hero whispered the last two words in frustration and abruptly turned off his Bat-communicator.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who gave kudos! :)

** Chapter 5: **

            Tom was looking at the Bat-glare through the still-drying blood on his face.  His nose was broken, he was missing several teeth and he was dizzy from the concussion Robin had given him when slamming the man’s forehead into the ground.  The forehead that was heavily bruised and had just barely stopped bleeding.

            The henchman had been unconscious for at least ten minutes and had only been awake for three.  The paramedics had wrapped the upper half of Tom’s face; the only things Batman could see were the man’s blood-shot, hazel eyes.  The Caped Crusader had been glaring at him ever since he woke up.  The Bat-glare was, in fact, the first thing Tom had seen when he had opened his glassy eyes. 

            “What does she want with him?” Batman growled when Tom’s vision had cleared slightly.

            But the goon just stared at him, unable to completely process the question.  There was something about a cat in the back of his brain.  Was Batman asking about a cat?  The image of a masked, yellow cape strolled through his mind and confusion filled his face.  Did that have something to do with the cat?

            “Catwoman!” Batman yelled and Tom’s eyes widened as a memory flashed through his mind.  Where was she?  What had happened?  The last thing he remembered was her shocked expression and something slamming onto his shoulders.

            “Come on, you have to know something!” Batman growled again.  The man had a major concussion, that was obvious, but there had to be at least one piece of information that he could remember!

            “Where…Catwoman?” the man mumbled and the hero sighed, the sound filled with both annoyance and impatience.

            “She left you.  She took your friends, the other hostages and Robin.  She left you to be arrested.  What does she want with _Robin_?!” Batman demanded.

            Tom’s face fell.  His boss had left him?  Why did everyone else get to go with her?  That stupid kid, what was his name?  That kid must have knocked him out.  The masked cape was actually some kind of bird.  The angry man in front of him had said robin so the bird must be a robin.  Robin…a robin.  _Robin_!

            “Where’s the kid?” it was the henchman who growled this time.  “I’ll take him down with…” he paused to take a wheezy breath, “…with my bare hands!”

            “That’s what I’m asking you!” Batman snarled.  “Where’s Robin?!”

            Several lines connected in his brain.  Pictures of dark places and treasures filled his mind.  She was taking him there; she needed him to get the shiny things.

            “The cave!” Tom yelled and winced at both the pain and the noise.

            Batman had closed his eyes in frustration but they immediately popped open when he heard those words.

            “What cave?  Where is it?  Why does she need him?”

            Catwoman had left him; she had betrayed him.  So Tom decided to return the favor.  “The small cave in the big cave at Gootem Pole,” he declared.

            “There is no such place as Gootem Pole,” Batman stated wearily.  He had thought that the man was actually remembering something useful but he was obviously wrong.

            Tom was shaking his aching head.  “Gootem Pole, no, Greatum Place, no…” he trailed off.  The name was on the edge of his mind but he couldn’t quite reach it.

            “Gotham Point?” Batman asked then shook his head.  There were no caves there.

            “Wait!” Tom shouted and winced again.  “Get a mint!  She wants Robin to get a mint of something?” he questioned the thought.  Why would mint be in a cave?  Shrugging, the henchman decided that he wanted to take a nap so he closed his eyes and slumped to the floor.

            “Gotamint Peak?!” Batman exclaimed but the man was already asleep.  _Get a mint; there are no mint plants on any of the mountain ranges around here.  ‘Get a mint’ could actually be Gotamint._   That massive mountain was about seven hours north of Gotham.

            The hero sighed again.  If the goon had stayed awake for a few seconds longer, Batman might have received confirmation of his theory.  At least the man’s concussed brain had given him a little bit of, hopefully, useful information.  Catwoman could be taking Robin to one of the many caves on Gotamint Peak, although the Caped Crusader still had no idea why.  But there were over fifty on that mountain alone and many more scattered throughout that range.  If his assumption was incorrect, he would be wasting a significant amount of time searching for his partner in the wrong place.  Robin could be in a cave on the mountains that were south of Gotham City instead, slowly becoming useless to the villainess as he worked toward completing whatever it was that she wanted him to do.

            “Chief,” Batman called.  Chief O’Hara came rushing over from where he was talking to Commissioner Gordon.

            “You can take him,” the Caped Crusader stated.  “His brain is a little confused right now; he has a major concussion.  You might want to wake him up.”  Rising from the floor in front of the snoring henchman, Batman strode out of the museum and climbed into the Batmobile.  He was just about to leave when a thought crossed his mind.

            “Commissioner!” Batman waved over the man who was watching him leave.  The commissioner obliged the unspoken request and met the hero, who was now standing up, at the door of the Batmobile.

            “How did Robin go from picking up an envelope in your office to becoming a hostage at the museum?” the Caped Crusader inquired.

            “An envelope, Batman?  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I never received anything for either of you yesterday or this morning.”

            “But you called me on the Batphone,” Batman declared.  “At exactly eight-seventeen I answered the Batphone and you said you had a plain white envelope addressed to ‘Robin, The Boy Wonder’.”

            “I’m sorry, Batman, but I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the commissioner repeated.  “I didn’t have any reason to call you – until this situation occurred, of course.”

            Batman stared at the older man thoughtfully.  Who else had access to the Batphone in Commissioner Gordon’s office?

            “Were you in your office all morning?” the hero demanded.

            “No.  Chief O’Hara and I went to breakfast around eight o’clock.  You don’t mean…” the commissioner’s eyes widened.  Someone had broken into his office?!

            “That is precisely what I mean, Commissioner.  Who, besides you and the chief, can get into your office?  And did you lock the door before you left for breakfast?”

            This time it was the commissioner who was deep in thought.  Bonnie had a key and so did the janitor.  But Bonnie was the conscientious daughter of the honorable Mayor Linseed.  The young woman had been his secretary for almost eight years; she would never betray him.  And he hadn’t seen the janitor this morning; the man usually arrived around seven-thirty at night.

            “My secretary, Bonnie Linseed, and the janitor have access but I trust Bonnie and the janitor is a _night_ janitor,” Commissioner Gordon answered Batman’s first question.  “I always lock my office before I leave,” he continued, a little offended that the hero would ask a question like that.  The memory of an open window escaped his mind as he saw an image of himself turning a key to lock the door.

            “Hmmmm,” Batman mused as he climbed back into the Batmobile.  Without another word, the engine roared to life and the hero sped away.  Commissioner Gordon was left coughing in the dust and wondering how Batman was going to figure out who had used the Batphone at eight-seventeen this morning.

* * *

**Seven hours later:**            

            Robin was startled into awareness when the Catmobile jerked to a stop.  He kept his eyes closed and listened, hoping to glean some useful information from the voices of the two henchmen.

            “How’s it going back there?” came the nasal tone of Felix.  The Boy Wonder could hear the smile of the goon and the frightened mumblings of the two women.  All three hostages were in the middle of the three rows of seats.  They, like Robin and Leon, were squished against each other and the teenager could hear Richard wheezing slightly.

            “He’s still out,” that was Leon’s voice, right in front of Robin’s face.  A large hand unexpectedly slapped his right cheek and the teenager’s eyes flew open.

            “Not anymore,” the strong henchman grinned.  “Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” he taunted quietly.  “We’re going to have some more fun after you have completed your mission.  I might even let you use both arms to show Catwoman that I can defeat the unrestrained ‘Boy Wonder’.  That’s what they call you, right?”

            A gleam of anticipation settled itself into Leon’s dark chocolate eyes and he rubbed his hands together in excitement.  His boss was going to be so impressed when he easily took down the so-called “hero” who had been trained by THE Batman!

            “That will be fun,” Robin replied with a smirk.  “Catwoman’s going to love watching me beat you up.  She’ll leave you for dead, just like she left Tom.  If you remember correctly, I took out that henchman quite easily.  It took me what, three seconds at the most?”  The Boy Wonder chuckled as Leon’s face grew dark with anger.

            “I am much, _much_ stronger than any of the other guys.  Actually, I’m stronger than all of them put together!”

            “Riiiiiight,” Robin drew the word out sarcastically.  “Which is why I nearly defeated you with one arm tied behind my back.”

            “Nearly, sidekick,” the big man growled, “is the key word.  _Nearly_ means that you lost.”

            Robin shrugged as best as he could.  “ _Nearly_ with only one arm.  That word won’t apply when I use both arms.  We can do it now, if you want.  I had a great nap; I’m feeling refreshed and energetic.”  The grin stayed on the young face, even when Leon’s large hand smacked him again.  This hit caused his head to connect with the seat but Robin was not at all concerned.  The chair was cushioned – some part of his face was going to be sporting a good-sized bruise but that snippet of pain was irrelevant.

            Growling again, Leon shoved the door open and climbed out.  Robin stretched out his sore legs and brought both arms in front of him.  The right was fine; it had been hanging down ever since it had been thrown away from his chest.  The left, however, was beginning to tingle.  It had fallen asleep behind his back so the annoying and slightly uncomfortable little needles were pricking every part of the limb.

            The left side of his torso was aching and the Boy Wonder wished he had some Bat-wrap.  The crack could easily turn into a break if he wasn’t careful.  Leon knew he was injured there and would probably go for Robin’s ribs right away.  Maybe the Bat-rope could be maneuvered around to imitate Bat-wrap.

            The teen sat up and winced.  Moving the loosened Bat-rope down a little bit, he pulled it tight and gasped in pain.  Nope, Bat-rope couldn’t take the place of Bat-wrap.

            “Scarf,” came a quiet rasp from his right and Robin glanced over.  Richard was flicking his head in the direction of the woman next to him.  She was wearing a long, red scarf that looked like it was made of cotton.  It could work, if he could tighten it enough to keep it in place.

            “May I?” the Boy Wonder whispered and the woman nodded.  Gently pulling the accessory away from her shoulders, Robin quietly thanked her while unwinding the Bat-rope from his torso.   The material wasn’t as stretchy or strong as Bat-wrap but it would definitely help.  He began wrapping his ribs and was disappointed to discover that it was too short to fit around his body more than once.  The ends were just long enough for him to tie into a knot.  It wouldn’t hold; the teen immediately recognized that fact.  However, he didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by disregarding the idea or the scarf so he internally sighed and left it alone.  At least the material was red and wouldn’t be too noticeable.  His first movement, offensive or defensive, would quickly undo the knot but at least his ribs had support for now.

            A memory flashed through his mind and his blue eyes shifted slightly, moving from his ribs to his chest.  Instead of the big, bold ‘R’ displayed proudly over his heart, there was a jagged hole.  Leon had torn off the identifying symbol and tossed it out the window of the moving vehicle.  It wasn’t that big of a deal – he was still Robin without it – but he felt like a part of him was missing.

            _Oh, grow up!  It’s a letter!  Everybody still knows who you are; you don’t need a letter to prove it!  You’re sixteen!  Don’t be such a baby; just let it go!_

            The thoughts chased each other around in his head and Robin frowned.  Yes, it was “just” a letter, but it was _his_ letter and Leon was going to regret throwing it away.

            The side door suddenly opened and Felix ordered the three hostages out of the vehicle.  It was difficult; they weren’t used to moving with their hands tied behind their backs.  Richard’s wheezing turned into rasping and he nearly fell to the ground when he stepped out.

            “Help him out, geez!” Robin shouted as he watched his ally stumble.  The tall goon was just standing there, looking bored.  The old man regained his balance by himself and glared at the henchman while attempting to catch his breath.  Robin could only see Richard’s profile and, therefore, only one eye but the fiery sparks that were shooting out of that eye could almost be considered an elderly version of the infamous Bat-glare.  A quiet chuckle escaped his mouth and the Boy Wonder couldn’t wait to tell his older partner about this virtually fearless eighty-year-old man.

            Felix stepped forward and cut the ropes off the wrists of the three hostages.  They all immediately began rubbing the sore appendages and Robin saw the red marks of rope burn on the slender wrists of one of the women.  So, Richard wasn’t the only brave hostage; the woman had been struggling to free herself.

            “Shut up, Boy Blunder,” Catwoman snapped from the front seat.  Had she been there this entire time?  Robin mentally admonished himself for his lack of observation.  This was the second time he had been caught unawares.  Batman was _not_ going to be happy with him.

            “Make me,” he retorted.  He knew he sounded immature but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of shutting up. 

            The villainess motioned to someone, Robin assumed it was Leon, and said something about disrespect.  But his arms, although lightly throbbing, were free – the left was no longer asleep – and there was nothing wrong with his legs.  _Try it, Leon.  Come on, big boy._

            That thought became an action when the back door was flung open and two large hands wrapped themselves around Robin’s calves.  The Boy Wonder hadn’t expected that and his eyes widened.  Leon was strong enough to pull him out and toss him against something hard that would probably knock him out.

            “Crap,” he muttered as the man began tugging.  But the teenager was strong, too, and he grabbed the frame of the Catmobile just before he was jerked out of the vehicle.  Leon’s momentum stalled and Robin let go, arching himself backwards until his hands hit the ground.

            Instantly pushing off, the Boy Wonder swung himself up – almost hitting his head against the open door – and began pummeling every part of the man’s body he could reach.  The attack startled Leon and he automatically moved to defend himself, dropping the teenager’s legs in the process. 

            Robin easily landed on his feet and immediately crouched under the right hook headed his way.  He felt the scarf fall off his ribs but ignored the slight hitch of pain that flared up as a result of the loss of support.  The muscles in his legs were strong enough for the Boy Wonder to go from a crouch to a punishing tackle and that’s exactly what he did.

            Like a linebacker attacking a running back, Robin wrapped both arms around Leon’s waist and shoved his right shoulder into the goon’s chest.  The big man stumbled and the teenager immediately shifted the power from his right to his left shoulder, slamming it against the side of the large torso.  The hit twisted Leon’s body slightly but he was able to stay on his feet.

            There was a large rock behind him and the big man didn’t notice it. Instead of taking a solid step back, his right heel hit the rock.  Leon tripped, landed hard on his back and began gasping for air.  The Boy Wonder flew over the henchman’s head and instinctively tucked himself into a forward roll.  Everything would have worked out perfectly, if they hadn’t been on a rocky mountainside.

            Instead of standing up and benefiting from his luck, Robin also landed hard on the rocks and began gasping for air.  Neither fighter felt like moving but both knew they needed an advantage.  Leon had more power but Robin was faster.  Robin was more athletic but Leon was stronger.  Leon’s lungs were larger, making it easier to regain control of his breathing, and his ribs were uninjured.  The henchman suddenly had the upper hand.

            “Leon, stop!” Catwoman commanded as her big man stood up and glared at the teenager on the ground.  The knuckles in his fists were turning white from the anger pulsing through his body and his mouth was twisted into a snarl.  It took every inch of control in the man’s mind to force himself to stand still instead of beating the boy to a pulp.  The kid had _taken him down_! 

            “I need him, remember?” the villainess purred quietly and Leon’s tense body slightly relaxed.  “After he becomes useless to me – to us – you can do what you want with him.  _Understand_?!”

            The last word was shouted and the henchman looked up at his boss in surprise.  She smiled sweetly at him and he unclenched his hands.  Stepping away from the boy, Leon smiled adoringly and nodded.

            Robin let out a breath of relief.  She needed him, he still had no idea why, but he wasn’t on the losing end of a fight because he was useful.  That was an advantage that Leon would never have because henchmen outlived their usefulness much quicker than valuable captives.  And that’s what Robin knew he was: a valuable captive.  Strong goons were a dime a dozen around Gotham City.  Not intelligent ones, like Leon, but strength was pretty good on its own.  Catwoman would have no trouble finding a new henchman.

            He was suddenly being pulled to his feet and Robin flinched when Leon put a muscular arm around his waist, squeezed tightly and tossed the small frame over his broad shoulder.  Robin thought about fighting back but decided to wait.  He was resting and regaining his strength while Leon was being forced to contract nearly every muscle in his body in order to stay on his feet without dropping the Boy Wonder.

            “Thanks for the ride,” the teenager grunted breathlessly.  The arm that was wrapped around his waist tightened and Robin saw black spots instead of the rocky ground.  Leon must have heard him struggling for air because the strong bicep marginally relaxed.  Oxygen was permitted to enter the young crime-fighter’s lungs again but Leon knew exactly how to hold Robin: loose enough to allow him to breathe, but tight enough to make it hurt if he tried to take anything other than a shallow breath.

            “If you’re smart, you’ll shut up,” the big goon replied.  “I have to keep you alive but I don’t have to keep you uninjured.  You really only need your upper body and arms in order to complete your mission.  So, Catwoman won’t mind if I break a bone or two in your scrawny legs.”

            The teen knew he should keep his mouth shut for several reasons.  First, it was hard enough to breathe without talking.  Second, the man was probably telling the truth.  Third, Robin needed to be able to fight later and that would be very difficult with broken legs.  But he was Robin – the Boy Wonder never chose to remain silent.

            “What’s my mission?” he rasped and felt the rumble of a chuckle run through the man’s torso.  Scowling when there was no reply, Robin went for the insult instead.

            “I thought you were smart,” he gasped.  “But you don’t even know the mission, do you?  She always keeps her henchmen in the dark…” he trailed off when a strong hand grabbed his ankle.  It was a warning, Robin recognized that fact, so instead of continuing his sentence he merely growled at his captor.

            “I didn’t think you would want to take that chance,” Leon stated and Robin heard a smirk in the words.  “I really, _really_ want to just twist this little joint until the bone breaks through the skin.  However, I want to impress Catwoman by fighting a mostly healthy Bat-sidekick more.  So, you’re lucky.  For now.”

            Rolling his eyes, Robin waited for the man to remove his hand.  It didn’t happen and the Boy Wonder growled again.  Leon, a _henchman_ , had actually shut him up.  Robin narrowed his eyes in anger: the large man was now going to pay for both disposing of his ‘R’ _and_ shutting him up.


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter 6: **

**Six hours earlier:**

            The Batmobile roared into the Batcave but the sound quickly faded as Batman parked.  He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice himself automatically climb out of the vehicle.

            “Sir?” Alfred inquired when he saw the hero standing beside the Batmobile, staring into space.

            Shaking himself out of his contemplations, Batman strode to the Bat-computer. 

            “What do you know about Gotamint Peak?” he asked his butler as he put the two words into the machine.  “Catwoman left a henchman and he said she was taking Robin to ‘get a mint’.  The guy had a major concussion, though.”

            Alfred shook his head.  “One can rarely trust the words that come from a concussed brain, sir.  But ‘get a mint’ is very similar to Gotamint.  Do you know how the peak got its name, sir?”

            “No,” Batman admitted, “I don’t know its history.”

            Alfred was surprised – his charge seemed to know almost everything – but was also somewhat proud of himself.  He knew something Batman didn’t know.

            “Would you like a short story about the origin of the name then, sir?”  Batman nodded so Alfred sat down by the Bat-sound Analyzer.

            Before beginning his tale, Alfred cautioned, “This is a legend, sir, as are most stories about lost treasures.  Long ago, over two hundred years, there was nothing around here but large mountains and small valleys.  A shallow river divided the tallest peak from all the others.  That river, now much deeper, is part of Gotham City’s water supply.  You know of the Gotamint Dam, of course.”

            Batman nodded again as he dropped onto the chair by the Bat-computer.  Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and propped his chin on his fists.  He stared at his butler, listening intently.

            “Legend has it that a group of bandits first discovered the range of mountains,” Alfred continued.  “As you know, sir, bandits are outlaws and this particular company had been on the run for several weeks.  They were being chased by the sheriff of a far-away town.  His posse was strong and fast, refusing to rest for more than a few hours a day.  As a result, everyone in the group of bandits was worn out.

            They came to the foot of the tallest mountain, which we now call Gotamint Peak, and decided to climb.  The majority of the band began ascending the mountain and the leader sent the rest – a much smaller company – in a different direction to leave a fake trail for the sheriff and his posse to follow.”

            The butler paused to take a breath and Batman impatiently motioned for him to continue.

            “There was a mole, sir.  One of the sheriff’s deputies, a young man named Mick, had ingrained himself into the group.  He had worked himself up to second-in-command so he knew everything that the leader was planning.  When they reached the peak of the mountain, Mick stopped and offered to be the lookout.  The remainder of the outlaws could go down the other side and have a chance to rest while Mick watched for the sheriff.  The leader, suspecting nothing treacherous from his second-in-command, agreed.  The posse, if they found the real trail, would have to climb the mountain so an early warning from Mick would give the bandits a huge head start.  By the time the sheriff and his men arrived at the top, the group would be long gone.

            The deputy, of course, had no intention of warning the outlaws.  He watched as they made their way down into the valley and set up camp by the river.  Night fell and Mick took off down the mountain, attempting to find the sheriff before he followed the wrong trail.  Unfortunately, the young deputy’s sense of direction was not as keen in the darkness and instead of going straight down he unknowingly angled his path.  That angle led him straight into the smaller company and he was immediately discovered.  Mick was quickly bound with tight ropes and thrown over the shoulder of the strongest man.  The band circled their way around the mountain and found the camp several days later.

            The leader had already been informed of the situation and his entire band of outlaws was waiting when the smaller group arrived.  Of course there was no trial and no mercy.  Mick was shot dead as soon as he was taken off the strong man’s shoulder and the leader proclaimed that any other traitor would be called a ‘mick’.”

            “How do you know all of this, Alfred?”

            “Patience, sir, is a virtue,” the butler replied and Batman almost rolled his eyes.

            Alfred continued, “The youngest child, a boy no more than twelve, suddenly shouted, ‘We got a mick over here!’  Nobody knew how the boy had figured it out but the deputy’s wife had snuck into the band.  She was also shot where she stood and the leader then declared that the name of the mountain was ‘Got a mick’.”

            Alfred paused again and stood up.  “I need a drink, sir,” he stated and went to the medical area.  Taking a cup off a shelf, he held it under the faucet in the sink.  His dry throat thanked him when the cool water slid down and the butler carried the cup back to his seat.

            “So the sheriff and his deputies changed ‘Got a mick’ to ‘Gotamint’ in order to preserve the memory of the brave mole,” Batman concluded.

            Shaking his head, Alfred resumed his story.  “Both the posse and the group of bandits were never seen or heard of again.  Many years passed and the people in that far-away town eventually forgot about them.  Their story became a myth, and most believed they had never even existed.  But the legend included the account of the Great Bank Robbery, when all the money and valuables kept in the vaults had disappeared.  The bandits that nobody believed in were the supposed robbers and their treasure was hidden in a place where it would never be discovered. 

            A little less than one hundred years ago, an old man limped into that very town.  He told of a great mountain with caves full of treasures and bones scattered throughout a valley.  The old man claimed to be the grandson of that twelve-year-old boy who called out Mick’s wife.  His grandfather had told him stories of the ‘glory days’ when a group of outlaws emptied a bank, was chased by a posse, discovered two traitors and named a mountain. 

            The town’s mayor questioned the old man for several days and finally decided that he was just a crazy vagabond.  His story was similar to the myth of the bandits but there were too many inconsistencies for it to be true.  Because, of course, legends are always more accurate than the stories told by an old man claiming that his grandfather was one of the bandits from the Great Bank Robbery.”  There was a tinge of sarcasm in the last sentence and Batman grinned slightly.

            “However, there were some people who believed him.  The old man told them about the tall mountain full of treasures; he called it ‘Gotamick Peak’.  A small group of men got together and asked him to lead them there.  They were never heard of again, just like the posse of old and the band of robbers.  That, sir, is the story of Gotamint Peak, although I don’t know how the name changed from ‘mick’ to ‘mint’.”

            Batman raised an eyebrow.  “Again, Alfred, how do you know all of this?”

            A smile that almost resembled a smirk lit up the butler’s features.  “One of the men who believed the old man decided to stay with his family instead of going on the treasure hunt.  That man, Master Batman, was my great-grandfather.  The story was told to my grandmother, who told it to my father, who told it to me.”

            _Ding_.  A card slid out of the Bat-computer and Batman snatched it out of the tray.  Quickly skimming its contents, he hummed in what Alfred assumed to be confirmation of his story.  Then Batman’s eyes narrowed.

            “Alfred, have you heard of Jenkin Jones?”

            “No, sir, the name doesn’t even sound familiar.”

            “It’s the Bat-computer’s turn for a history lesson, then,” Batman stated.  “According to this reliable machine, Jenkin Jones worked at the US Treasury.  Five days after he retired, one of the small, portable minting machines went missing.  The FBI was put on the case and Jones was their first suspect.  He was nowhere to be found.  Federal agents were sent around the country, INTERPOL was notified and every tiny lead was followed.  They never found him.  Several years ago an old man was caught using counterfeit money at a grocery store in a small town near…” he trailed off and looked at Alfred expectantly.

            “Gotamint Peak,” the butler finished and Batman nodded.

            “The money was so perfect that the cashier wouldn’t have noticed it without the help of another patron.  The woman had just left her job at the Treasury in order to take care of her dying mother.  The old man looked familiar but the woman didn’t know why.  She was watching him pay for his food and recognized a ring on his right hand – a silver circle with a large, golden letter ‘J’.  She suddenly knew why she recognized him.  Her former boss, Jenkin Jones, had that exact ring and was always telling the story about melting down his collection of fake gold in order to add that letter to his plain band.

            The man left and the woman asked the cashier if she could look at the money the man had used to pay for his food.  She studied it carefully and everything looked fine.  Then she noticed it; a tiny flaw in the bottom right hand corner.  It was a spot that was slightly lighter than the rest of the paper and the woman easily identified it.  Dirt was caught in one of the inkwells of the machine – it had happened once before at the Department of Treasury and the machine had to be torn apart and thrown away.  Jones had a minting machine and it was being kept somewhere that had a lot of dirt. 

            The town was in the shadows of the mountain range so that was the most logical place for him to keep it.  Authorities combed the entire area several times, searching in caves and even diving down to the bottom of the river.  But it was never found.  Neither was Jenkin Jones,” he added.

            “Then the authorities changed the name, sir?”

            “No, it was a joke among the locals.  Somewhere in the mountain there is, allegedly, a minting machine so they called it ‘Gotamint’ and the name stuck.”

            “And Catwoman must know at least one of the stories,” Alfred remarked wisely.

            Nodding, Batman replied, “I’m sure she’s after the lost treasure, not the machine.  That doesn’t tell us why she needs Robin, though.”

            “Did the henchman give you any other clues, sir?” Alfred inquired and Batman closed his eyes in concentration.  He went over the conversation in his head and was sure that he had covered everything of importance.  Catwoman was going to a cave in Gotamint Peak and Robin was supposed to retrieve something.  But why Robin?  And which cave?

            “The small cave in the big cave!” Batman suddenly shouted.  His eyes flew open and he turned to the Bat-computer.  After typing in the phrase, the hero impatiently drummed his fingers on the table in front of him.  There were probably many small caves inside all of the bigger ones but he had nothing to lose by giving the information to the machine.

            _Ding._   Out came a card and Batman grabbed it.  The hero’s eyes widened in disbelief and he turned back to Alfred.

            “There is actually a section of Gotamint Peak called ‘the small caves in the big caves’!  Apparently the locals divided the mountain into squares so they could keep track of where things were: the best hiking spots, the sweetest berries, etc.  This section is right in the middle of the mountain!”  Batman was racing to the Batmobile while yelling out the last sentence and Alfred watched the vehicle fly down the tunnel.

            “We still don’t know why she wants Robin, sir, so be careful,” the butler said to the exhaust lingering in the air.  Batman had a tendency to rush into things when Robin was in trouble and not having all the information was dangerous.

            Picking up the white card that had been dropped to the ground, Alfred read the contents carefully.  The word “small” began rolling around in his mind and the butler walked over to the Gotham City Plans and Views machine.  It was a long shot but he typed in Gotamint Peak and waited.

            Surprisingly, an image of the mountain popped onto the screen.  Alfred added the short phrase and waited again.  The machine zoomed in on the middle section of the mountain and the butler studied the picture.  There were several large, dark circles that he assumed to be the big caves.  How small were the “small” caves?  Too small for a full-grown adult but large enough for an under-sized hero who would risk his own life to save innocent hostages?

            But maybe he was assuming too much.  How would Catwoman know something was there if she couldn’t get in?  Neither part of the legends had said anything about _where_ the treasures were hidden.  Maybe she was going to force Robin to go through every small cave she could find.  It wouldn’t be long before the impatient villainess would grow tired of waiting for him to find something.  When that happened, there would be no reason for her to keep the Boy Wonder alive. 

* * *

**Present time:**         

            Leon was slowing down.  He had to climb uphill while carrying a sixteen-year-old boy.  Robin, although strong and athletic, was relatively light but traversing boulders and attempting to catch himself with one hand when he stumbled was wearing out the henchman.

            “Catwoman,” Leon called, gasping for air.  “Can we…take a…little break?”

            Turning around from her position at the front of the line, the villainess glared at her large goon.  His face was sweaty, even though the mountain air was slightly chilly, and his chest was heaving.  Glancing down the rest of the line, where the hostages were being prodded along by Felix, she noticed that everyone was tired.  The old man, in fact, looked like he was about to have a heart attack.  Rolling her eyes, Catwoman resigned herself to allowing them a short rest.

            “Just a little one!” she yelled.  “We’re almost there!”

            Grunting, Leon rolled Robin off his shoulder and sat on a nearby boulder.  The Boy Wonder landed on a rock and heard another tiny crack on the left side of his ribcage.  He ignored the pain in his chest and stood up.  But Catwoman was ready for him to try something.

            “Do it,” she stated sharply, “and I’ll shoot him.”  Her Cat-gun was pointed at Richard, who had dropped to the ground.  The man’s face was pale and he was holding his chest.  Robin slowly raised his arms and sat down.

            “Where’s ‘there’?” the teenager asked in order to keep her attention focused on him instead of Richard.

            “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she sneered back and Robin almost rolled his eyes.

            “Yes,” he replied, his voice surprisingly unemotional.  The less he antagonized her, the safer it would be for everyone.

            “Just shut up or I’ll have Leon do it for me,” she snarled.

            The henchman was sitting behind Robin.  He chuckled, picked up a small rock and threw it at the back of the teen’s head.  The Boy Wonder flinched but stayed quiet and the villainess grinned in satisfaction.

            “I don’t think he can go much farther,” one of the female hostages tentatively spoke up.  Richard was leaning against her with his eyes closed and his breathing ragged.

            Catwoman stared at the man for several seconds, indecision on her face.  He would slow them down but it was obvious that Robin was, for some reason, extremely protective of the man.  Keeping the old guy alive would keep the kid in line, she was sure about that.  However, did she have time to deal with his inability to move quickly?

* * *

            Robin carefully watched the face of his female captor.  Her Cat-gun was by her side and she was clearly trying to make a decision about something.  She began tapping the weapon against her leg and the Boy Wonder could practically see the thoughts running through her head.  She was thinking about shooting Richard, Robin decided, and he wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

            Quietly, inch by inch, the teenager bent his legs in toward his chest.  He slowly shifted his weight to his feet and hoped that Leon hadn’t noticed.  Now he was in a flat crouch, heels on the ground and torso leaning over his toes.  Richard was a mere three feet away and Robin was ready to move as soon as Catwoman made her decision.

* * *

            The man would be too slow, the villainess finally decided.  She could either leave him here to die slowly or shoot him.  Catwoman saw a mental image of the old man attempting to fight off wild animals and chose to be merciful.  The animals would still get him but at least he wouldn’t be alive to feel it.

            Lifting her Cat-gun, she pointed it at Richard.

            “This isn’t personal,” she stated, “but you’re just going to slow me down.  I’m in a hurry.”  She shrugged and pulled the trigger.  But this time it was Robin who was prepared for Catwoman to try something.

            A small blur flew through the air and the grunt of pain didn’t come from the old man.  Robin felt the burn in his left shoulder as he bent his legs in an attempt to roll out of his dive.  The momentum from the bullet slightly twisted his torso and he landed flat on his back instead of rolling up to his feet.

            “NO!” Catwoman yelled when she saw the teenager drop to the ground.  The boy was gasping for air and his shoulder was bleeding heavily.  His eyes were squeezed shut and his teeth were clenched against the pain.

            “Felix, give me your shirt!  Leon, get over here!” she demanded loudly and the henchmen quickly obeyed.  Catwoman snatched the shirt and knelt beside the young hero just as Leon arrived by her side.

            “Tear this shirt in half and then lift him up so I can wrap the wound!” she commanded and the strong man complied.  Robin groaned when Leon put his hand under the teen’s back and roughly pushed his body up to sitting.  The Boy Wonder’s head dropped back and both hands clenched into fists.

            “Be careful, idiot!” Catwoman screeched and Leon growled but put his right hand under Robin’s head to support his neck.  The villainess picked the material up off the ground where the henchman had dropped it after ripping it apart.  She tightly wrapped it around the bloody shoulder and tied it with a constrictor’s knot.

            Widening his eyes when he saw the complicated knot, Leon asked, “Where did you learn to do that?”  Astonishment filled his voice; his boss knew _everything_!

            Glancing up with a glare, Catwoman replied, “I read.  Why was he able to get in front of the bullet?  You were supposed to be _WATCHING HIM_!”  Her voice rose and the last two words were shouted angrily.

            “I…well…it’s just that he…” Leon stumbled through the half sentence while attempting to think of a good reason.  He was so focused on his thoughts that he forgot he was holding an injured shoulder off the ground.  Moving his hands up to defend himself, he cringed when he heard the ‘thud’ of a body hitting the rocks.  Now he was in even more trouble.

            Robin was slowly opening his eyes and Catwoman growled at Leon before looking down at the teenager.  His face was pale and his blue eyes were cloudy but clearing quickly.

            “You’re an idiot, Boy Blunder,” she snarled.  “You’ve just made it more difficult for yourself.  We’re not resting for several days so that you can heal.  I’m in a hurry, like I said before, and you’re still going to do what I need you to do as soon as I need you to do it.”

            “Fine,” Robin wheezed quietly.  “But I’ll do the same thing if you try to shoot anyone again.  You might hit a vital part of my body next time,” he paused to take a painful breath, “and then I won’t be able to do whatever it is that you want me to do.”

            The shoulder was burning and Robin was sure that at least one of his ribs was broken.  It hurt to breathe and he wanted to go to sleep but was worried about what Catwoman might do if he gave in to the pain.  He had to stay awake to keep the hostages safe.  Right now he didn’t really care what happened to him but Batman would be really upset if any of the hostages were hurt.

            “Heroes save people, they don’t watch them die,” the Boy Wonder mumbled softly.  “Or let them get injured,” he added. 

            Catwoman was frowning at him and she knew he was telling the truth: he _would_ protect the hostages with his life.  He had been trained by Batman and the villainess was very familiar with that hero’s methods.  Batman would never allow an innocent person to get hurt if there was anything he could do about it.  Therefore, neither would Robin.  And she needed Robin.

            “Fine, I won’t shoot anyone,” she snarled again.  “But we’re going now and we’re not stopping until we get to the cave.  Felix, get them up!” she nodded to the three hostages.  “Leon, be gentle while you’re carrying him.  I – we – need him to be able to move!”

            The two women helped Richard to his feet and stood on either side to support him.  Leon bent down to pick Robin up but the teenager growled and put a trembling hand on the large chest.  Glancing up at Catwoman, who shrugged, the henchman backed away and allowed Robin to stand up on his own.

            Dizziness assaulted him and Robin almost fell down.  But, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leon move closer so the teenager forced himself to stand up straight.  He looked over his right shoulder and glared defiantly into the eyes of the strong goon.  

            “Don’t!” he demanded, his tone threatening.

            Surprised, Leon looked at Catwoman again.  She glared at the back of the Boy Wonder’s head, saw the question in her henchman’s eyes and then nodded.

            “If you stumble even once,” she declared as she walked in front of the teenager, “Leon is going to carry you whether you like it or not.”

            “Let him try,” Robin growled but everyone could hear the pain in his voice.  Both Catwoman and Leon rolled their eyes.  The villainess walked to the front of the group and the henchman strode behind the Boy Wonder, ready to catch him if – when, Leon grinned – the teen fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lame story about the mountain, sorry, but the info is important for later. :)


	7. Chapter 7

** Chapter 7: **

**Later that night:**

            “Will you please stop that wheezing?!” Catwoman snapped loudly.  The noise was tossed in the direction of the old man who, along with the rest of her captives, was sitting by the wall opposite of where the villainess was currently pacing.  Frowning, she realized that she should have just shot him while Robin was down. However, she had been focused on the more important issue – ensuring that the teen stayed alive.

            “He can’t help it!” Robin yelled back in a noticeably shaky voice.  He had made it up the rest of the mountain by himself but it had taken a lot of energy.  Blood was seeping through the thin fabric of Felix’s shirt, his head was pounding and he had been slightly dizzy for the last ten minutes.  But they were in the semi-darkness of a large cave with only two flashlights – one for each henchman – so Catwoman hadn’t noticed the blood.  Yet.  And Robin was not going to allow her to help him again. 

            “You still, um, have that, uh, knife?” he whispered to Richard, his voice full of pain.

            The old man was sitting next to the young hero, his gaze flicking from the weary face to the bloody shoulder and back again.  Nodding gently, Richard slowly pulled the requested item out of the pocket on his right side, grateful that he had been able to hide it before Felix had tied him up.

            “Cut off cape?” the Boy Wonder mumbled.  Darkness was threatening to overtake his mind but he forced his eyes to stay open.  The hostages were under his protection and he was not going to let down his guard.

            Richard was too weak to even lift the knife so one of the women took it from him.  She carefully shifted to her left and quietly began slicing the golden material right under Robin’s neckline.  It took her less than a minute and when she was done she put the knife in the front pocket of her pants instead of returning it to the old man.

            Robin was unintentionally swaying and he was seeing double.  He had to stop the blood from leaking out of his body but his fingers were numb and he couldn’t grab the cape that the woman was attempting to give him.

            “I’m Sheila, and I’m a nurse,” the other woman whispered from behind Robin’s left shoulder.  She took the cape, removed the remains of Felix’s shirt off the wound and gently pressed on the area.  Robin flinched and almost cried out but bit his tongue instead.

            Sheila was now pushing on the back of his shoulder and muttering to herself.  She sounded both disappointed and slightly fearful, causing the Boy Wonder to suddenly become very concerned.  Pulling her hand away, the woman quickly wrapped the injury with the cape.

            “There’s no exit wound,” she whispered, “and I can feel fragments.  It may have glanced off your collarbone and shattered.  Good news: not as much blood loss.  Bad news: greater chance of infection and the possibility of tiny shards getting into your bloodstream.  That means…” she trailed off when Robin shook his head. 

            The teenager shut his eyes in despair.  He knew what would happen if the deadly metal of the bullet traveled through his veins and into his heart.  But there was nothing he could do about it; he was going to die.  On the plus side, less blood loss meant more energy to save the hostages.  But he needed to get them out of here quickly. 

            “How long?” he asked quietly as he opened his eyes.  “For both scenarios, how long?”

            “If there are already pieces in your bloodstream you have twenty-four to thirty-six hours.  If not, you could last up to four days, as long as we can keep the entry point clean and the fragments out of your heart,” Sheila replied sadly.

            “Then I better think of something quickly,” Robin murmured.  “Go to sleep; you’re going to need energy when you have the chance to escape.”

            “Sonny?” Richard’s trembling voice came from the near-darkness on the Boy Wonder’s right side.  “You don’t have to do this.  I’ll distract them long enough for you to get these two young ladies out of here and then you can get yourself to a hospital.”

            “No,” Robin replied firmly.  Slowly turning his head to gaze at the old man, he grinned slightly.  “You have a family – kids, grandkids?” 

            Richard nodded, his eyes lit up with pride and the Boy Wonder’s grin grew. 

            “Then you know that I can’t let you sacrifice yourself.  I’m just a crime-fighter; possibly dying is part of my job description.  It’s not a grandfather’s job to sacrifice himself for a _crime-fighter_.  So, thanks, but you don’t have a choice in the matter.  Go to sleep,” the teenager commanded softly.    

            Tears filled the man’s eyes.  “You’re not _just_ a crime-fighter, you’re a hero.  Gotham City is lucky to have you and it has been my privilege to know you.  Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?”

            “Nope,” Robin’s smile faded slightly.  “Will you just…” he paused for half a second, “…I mean, if you see him…”  The teen trailed off, unsure if he should ask this of the hostages.  They were his responsibility and they shouldn’t have to think about anything except escaping when he was able to give them the opportunity.  He decided to leave the question unanswered.

            But Richard wasn’t going to allow the Boy Wonder to do that.  “Will we what, sonny?” he asked in the suddenly strong voice of a man with years of wisdom and experience.

            A quiet sigh escaped his lips and Robin continued, “Will you please tell Batman that I’m sorry I let myself get caught?”  The words flew quickly out of his mouth and he dropped his head, somewhat ashamed of his selfish question.

            “We will tell him everything, Robin,” Sheila whispered.  “How you defeated Tom with your arms bound behind your back, how you fought Leon – one of the strongest men I have ever seen – even though you were in pain and only had the use of one arm, how you took a bullet to save a man’s life and how you willingly – without a second thought – sacrificed yourself for us.”

            Both women were now quietly crying and silent tears were sliding down Richard’s wrinkled cheeks.

            “But, um,” Robin’s breathing hitched as he attempted to cover his emotions.  “He won’t be very happy with me.  I should have been able to take care of the situation instead of becoming a captive.  I made a stupid decision so will you just tell him that I’m sorry?”

            Nobody spoke because nobody wanted to promise the teenager that they would tell his partner sorry on his behalf.  The man should be proud of the boy, not angry with him, and none of the three adults could imagine themselves telling Batman that his young partner’s last words were, “I’m sorry”.

            “Please,” Robin whispered as several tears dropped unnoticed from his lashes.  The word was full of sorrow and Richard heard the pleading in the boy’s tone.

            “Yes, Robin,” the old man promised.  “I will tell Batman that…” there was a long pause and this time it was Richard who was struggling to control his emotions, “…that you’re sorry you were caught.”

            “Thank you,” the Boy Wonder sighed again and turned his attention back to Catwoman and her two henchmen.  He needed a plan, and fast.

* * *

            The Batmobile roared up the long mountain road.  Batman was frustrated; he was only on the first mountain and Gotamint Peak was three mountains and a river away.  When he finally arrived at the bottom, he would have to travel up dangerous switchbacks with sharp turns, which meant he would have to slow down.

            _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._   Batman grabbed the Batmobile’s Batphone extension.

            “Yes, Commissioner?”

            “It’s Alfred, sir.  I was thinking about all the information we have and the word ‘small’ kept strolling through my mind.  I’ve looked everywhere for a detailed map of the peak and I finally found one in Master Dick’s geography book upstairs.  There are several small caves just inside the entrance of three or four of the larger ones, sir.  This is just a guess, mind you, but what if Catwoman needs Robin because he is the only one who can fit into the small caves?”

            “She thinks the treasure is in one of the small caves,” Batman concluded, “and Robin is the only teenager who would willingly enter them.  Thank you, Alfred.”  He hung up the Batphone and increased his speed.  It would, hopefully, take a while to find the correct cave and even longer to load the Catmobile with whatever treasure she found.  Maybe he could get to Robin before she decided he was no longer useful.

* * *

**The next morning:**            

            “Get up, pipsqueak!” Leon thundered and Robin’s eyes popped open.  He had allowed himself to fall asleep and he was disappointed in himself.  Quickly glancing around, he saw all three hostages lying on the ground, not moving.  Squinting his eyes helped clear his vision and the teenager could just barely see all three chests evenly rising and falling.

            He was suddenly pulled to his feet and this time Robin couldn’t stop the cry of pain.  Leon had lifted him by his shoulders and was now smirking at him.  The look angered the Boy Wonder and he threw his head forward.  Two foreheads, one small and one large, connected loudly and Leon dropped Robin, who landed heavily on his feet.

            The big man roared and swung his huge fist toward the teenager’s face.

            “LEON!” the strong, feminine voice yelled and the henchman stopped mid-swing.  “Leave him alone or your share of the treasure belongs to me!  Don’t make me tell you again!”

            Growling, Leon turned away and Robin again breathed a sigh of relief.  It was nice to be needed instead of just being used as bait for Batman.

            “…get through!”  Catwoman’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts and Robin turned his head in the direction of the sound.

            “Did you hear me?” she screamed at him and he carefully shook his still-pounding head.  A slow stream of blood, originating from a small gash that had just taken up residence in the middle of his forehead, trickled down his nose.

            “I said,” the villainess stated impatiently, “that you are going in that cave because you are the only one small enough to get through!”  She was pointing in the direction of a dark hole to his left.  “And whatever treasure you find comes out with you.  Otherwise, one of these innocent people will get hurt.”

            Robin’s face darkened with anger and he opened his mouth to speak.  But Catwoman beat him to it.

            “I said I wouldn’t _shoot_ anybody.  There are other ways to injure a person.  So, you go now or I will have Leon break that lady’s kneecaps and then you go.”

            “How about if you let them leave and then I go?” Robin countered angrily and instantly realized his mistake.  He needed to keep her calm and talking back was definitely not the way to do that. 

            “ _I’M GOING_!” he thundered when she motioned to Leon.  Turning to his left, the young hero strode toward the small patch of darkness.  The closer he got, the more it seemed to shrink.  He almost had to kneel in order to enter the black hole and realized that anyone else in the room would be crawling at this point.

            Robin rested his right hand on the overhang of the entrance and closed his eyes.  His left shoulder was throbbing and he was still dizzy. 

            “I need a flashlight,” he called.  “I won’t be able to find whatever treasure is supposed to be here if I can’t see anything!”

            “Felix, flashlight, now!” the commanding voice of Catwoman echoed around the cave and suddenly there was a short stick being shoved into Robin’s left hand.  His eyes popped open and he forced his hand to grab it.

            It would be better to crawl for two reasons: first, he didn’t think he had enough energy to walk bent over for an extended period of time and second, he was about to fall over.  The world was tilting so Robin dropped to his knees.  There was a loud gasp and a trembling voice yelled his name.

            Raising his right hand, the Boy Wonder clenched his jaw and yelled, “I’m fine.  The entrance is short; I can’t just walk in!”

            “What are you waiting for?” Catwoman demanded.  “GO!”

            So Robin went.  He flicked the flashlight on and carried it in his left hand so he wouldn’t have to move that shoulder too much.  The sounds coming from the group of people behind him receded and soon it was completely quiet except for the sound of his breathing.

            The space he was currently crawling through was wide.  He decided to see if he could stand up but his head hit the ceiling when he was halfway there.  So, he returned to his knees and continued on.  A minute or two later he arrived in a larger cave, almost exactly like the one he had left behind.  But there was no treasure and no other exit.  The space was completely empty and Robin sighed.  Turning around, he slowly headed back the way he had come in.  It took a little longer to get out because he nearly fell asleep several times.  Finally he poked his head out of the tunnel and saw, through dusty vision, Richard’s head lying on Sheila’s lap.

            “What…happened?” Robin rasped as he slowly stood up.  The world was spinning and the teenager leaned against the rock wall as he attempted to cough the dirt out of his lungs.

            “It doesn’t matter,” Catwoman snarled.  “Did you find anything?” she demanded.

            Carefully shaking his head in answer to her question, he asked again, “What happened?!”  The words were louder than the first time and Robin’s gaze shifted from Catwoman to Richard.  Sheila pantomimed sleeping and the teen nodded slightly, a flicker of relief sweeping across his face.

            “Next cave, Boy Blunder!” the villainess yelled, startling him as she pointed to a hole ten feet to his right.  “Unless you want something bad to happen to your friend, the old guy,” she threatened sweetly.

            Robin was attempting to catch his breath.  “Do you have…water?”  His throat was chalky and the dust was clogging his nostrils.

            “Yes, but you can’t have any until you check the next cave,” Catwoman declared.  “So get going!”

            The Boy Wonder counted twelve steps before dropping to his knees again.  “See you on the other side,” he whispered as he crawled into the darkness.

* * *

_Finally_!  Batman had finally arrived at the bottom of Gotamint Peak.  The Batmobile could handle the sharp turns but not at break-neck speed.  There was no choice; he had to slow down.  He couldn’t help Robin or the hostages if he was dead.

            First, though, he needed to check for tracks.  If the Catmobile had been here, it would have left deep imprints in the road.  There had to be at least seven people in the vehicle and the tracks should be easy to see.  _If_ the Catmobile had been here….

            Climbing out of the Batmobile, the hero walked to the front and looked down.  He and Alfred had been right about the location – there was one set of fresh, deep tracks following the dirt road that led to the peak.  Jumping back into his vehicle, Batman began the long, slow drive up the mountain.  Slow by the Batmobile’s standards, anyway.  The Caped Crusader was flying around corners faster than any normal car but it wasn’t fast enough for him.  Catwoman could have already decided that Robin was useless.

            It took him nearly two and a half hours to reach the spot where the villainess had parked her vehicle.  Batman parked directly behind and climbed out.  One of the back doors of the Catmobile was open but the hero ignored it.  There were visible clues to his left: a red scarf, two small handprints on the ground and several signs of scuffling.  Still no blood and Batman was relieved.  Catwoman must need Robin for something difficult, something that required his partner to be able to move around easily.  Otherwise she probably would have allowed the big guy to get a few hits on the young crime-fighter.

            There was only one set of tracks again – footprints this time.  The trail continued to lead up the mountain and Batman began to follow.  After about a six-mile hike, he noticed markings that indicated they had taken a break.  There were small, clearly outlined footprints next to a large boulder; Robin had jumped at or over something.  Then he saw it; the main thing he had been hoping never to see while following Catwoman’s little group.  Blood, on a rock about seven feet away.  It was a pool, not just a small puddle, and Batman crouched down to examine it.  There was no way to know if it was Robin’s, it could be from a hostage or even a henchman.  Small pieces of tiger-striped material were strewn around the area.  Perhaps whatever bloody wound someone had sustained had been treated and wrapped with one of the henchmen’s distinctive shirts.

            There was nothing else to see here so Batman moved on.  Someone had been stumbling slightly and the small footprints probably belonged to Robin.  So it _was_ his partner’s blood, otherwise the young hero’s footsteps would be steady and even.  Tiny, red droplets were scattered around but they were never close to each other.  The wound had been wrapped and was merely dripping, not leaking or streaming.

            After twenty-two minutes of following the crimson-sprinkled trail, Batman glanced up to orient himself and immediately noticed a dark opening forty yards above him.  He had found one of the big caves…hopefully.  Quickly scrambling over boulders and weeds, the hero made his way up the mountain and strode into the near-darkness.

* * *

**Several hours earlier:**

            This cave wasn’t as wide as the first but it also wasn’t a cramped tunnel.  It only took Robin three minutes to get all the way in and he rolled his eyes when he got there.  The cave was a nearly perfect oval and was, of course, completely empty.  Robin had no idea what he was supposed to be finding but he hoped that he would find it soon.  He could feel things shifting around every time he moved his left shoulder.

            _If there’s nothing in my bloodstream now, there will be soon.  How am I going to get everyone out before I can’t move anymore?_

            He didn’t have a plan yet.  So, since this cave was so shallow, the Boy Wonder gave himself a moment to rest and think.  Leaning his back against the cold rock wall, he closed his eyes and attempted to form a plan.  Closing his eyes was a mistake; he almost fell asleep.  The bullet wound, resulting blood loss and continual pain was sapping his energy.

            Robin slowly opened his eyes and forced himself to his knees.  If he stayed away too long something bad was bound to happen.  It would probably be Richard first; he was the weakest and Robin knew he had been acting especially protective of the old man.  Catwoman had probably noticed it, too, and the villainess would want to keep Robin obedient by threatening the feisty octogenarian.

            The Boy Wonder carefully made his way back to the original cave.  Dust was flooding his lungs with every breath, causing him to cough and wheeze.  His eyes were burning from the dirt and his cape was about to fall off his injured shoulder.

            The nurse, Sheila, had said four days if they kept the wound clean and shards out of his heart.  Robin cut the time in half since the entry point was now full of grime.  Then he cut it a little more because of the constant movement of his arm.

_A day and a half to live, three hostages to free, three criminals to arrest and no way to secure them._

            His utility belt and Bat-cuffs were in the museum and the Bat-rope was in the Catmobile.  Leon and Felix would have to be knocked out and Catwoman…well, he would cross that bridge when he came to it.  The thoughts were suddenly interrupted when he heard a familiar, angry voice greet him as he crawled out of the small opening.

            “It’s about time!” Catwoman yelled.  “Thirteen minutes is a long time to come back empty-handed!”

            “Water,” Robin whispered in a gravelly voice.  An open bottle was thrust into his hands and he drank greedily.  Half of it went down his throat before he carefully placed it on the ground.

            “Emp…” he coughed and grabbed his chest with his right hand, “…ty.”

            Growling, Catwoman pointed to the back of the cave.  “Next one,” she commanded and Robin almost dropped to his stomach in disbelief.

            “What are you waiting for?” the villainess demanded.  “Leon, break the old man’s leg.”

            “STOP!” the teenager’s yell was more of a weary rasp.  He couldn’t stand up so he began crawling past the small group of criminals.

            “That’s better,” Catwoman purred. 

            “WAIT!” she shouted and Robin immediately stopped.  “Why are you bleeding?  What happened to Felix’s shirt?”

            Sheila spoke up before Robin could even open his mouth.

            “The shirt ripped apart so I wrapped his cape around it.  Pushing himself through rock has probably shredded that as well.  His shoulder needs attention or he’ll bleed out.”

            Catwoman was staring at the woman, her eyes narrowed in thought.  The boy _was_ bleeding but it was only a light trickle.  However, she couldn’t take that chance.

            “Sit down,” she commanded and Robin allowed his limbs to collapse in relief.  He was lying on his stomach, not sitting, but he didn’t think he could make it up there.  His lack of energy was now a moot point because Leon had just pulled him up.

            Fire shot through his shoulder and down his entire torso when Leon deliberately dug his thumb into the bullet wound.  Circles of darkness flooded his mind and Robin cried out in pain.  The henchman immediately let go of the boy’s shoulders and grabbed a chunk of the dark hair instead, holding him upright and waiting for instructions.

            “You seem to know what you’re talking about,” Catwoman glared at the woman who had spoken up.

            “I’m a nurse,” Sheila replied, “and his shoulder needs cleaning and wrapping.”

            “Leon, shirt,” the villainess commanded but the big man just stood there.  His eyes narrowed in anger and his entire body became tense with resentment.  He wasn’t going to give his _clothes_ to the kid!

            “NOW!” Catwoman yelled.  Grumbling quietly, Leon dropped Robin’s hair and pulled off his own shirt.  Robin almost tilted sideways when he was freed but somehow found the strength to remain vertical.

            “Get over here and fix him!” the villainess commanded again and Sheila quickly stood up and ran the several yards separating her from the Boy Wonder.  Dropping to the ground by his side, she felt his sweaty forehead and wiped as much dirt as she could off his face.  He was warm but not feverish.  Yet.  And his light blue eyes, although full of pain, were clear.  For now.

            “I need water,” she stated and this time it was _her_ voice that was commanding.  Felix grabbed the open water bottle that Robin had leaned against a wall and gave it to her.

            “Sorry,” she whispered as she dumped the entire contents over his dirty, bloody shoulder.  Robin clenched his jaw and flinched but shook his head.

            “No need,” he softly groaned while trying to grin.  Sheila carefully wrapped Leon’s shirt around the wound and grimaced.  The teen’s shoulder was still dirty and the grime covering the material wasn’t going to help with that.

            “Let’s go, hurry up!” Catwoman shouted and the nurse quickly finished tying a tight knot.  It wasn’t perfect but it would hold for a little while.  Not very long, though, if he continued dragging himself through tunnels and caves.

            “Done, but it won’t stay for long,” Sheila replied and the villainess rolled her eyes.

            “Good enough,” Catwoman said and pointed toward a dark entrance at the back of the cave.  “Go!”  She glared at Robin and he painfully got on his hands and knees and began crawling again.    

            “This sucks,” he mumbled and was relieved when she didn’t reply.  He made it to the entrance and paused.  Catwoman called out to Leon again so Robin pushed himself through the thin opening.

            He could see a long tunnel and it was very narrow.  It would be impossible to crawl so he took his hands off the ground and straightened up.  Turning his upper body so his shoulders wouldn’t bang against the walls, Robin slowly shuffled his way through the near-darkness.  The flashlight that the teenager had somehow held on to during the entire time in the large cave suddenly flickered.

            “Not now, please don’t go out now,” he muttered, fear lacing his tone.  The flashlight obeyed for thirty seconds.  Then it flickered again and went out completely.  Robin was in total darkness; he couldn’t even see any light from the cave behind him.  But there was no way he could turn around here so he forced himself to continue.  He shuffled on his knees for what felt like hours, his heart pounding and his breathing erratic.  A black-as-ink tunnel was not his friend; total darkness was, in fact, one of his worst fears.

            Finally he saw a sliver of light and attempted to move faster.  Two minutes later Robin was pushing himself through the exit and into a small cave, if it could even be called that.  It was more like a circle with a crack of light shining through the mountain above him and it was just wide enough for him to turn around.  There was no way any treasure could fit in the tight spot and the only choice he had was the tunnel he had just exited.  He dropped the dead flashlight; this time there would be no light at all.

            He couldn’t do it.  Robin stared at the entrance for several minutes, his body trembling and his heart racing.  There were hostages to rescue and criminals to arrest but the teenager couldn’t force himself to enter the darkness.

_Never give up._   Batman had used those three words so many times throughout Robin’s short career.  But the Boy Wonder was going to die anyway so did it really matter?  He could just sit down and allow himself to fade away.  Batman would be able to find the hostages and free them from Catwoman’s paws.  The Caped Crusader always triumphed in the end.

            So Robin sat down, leaned against the rough wall with his knees almost touching his chin and closed his eyes.  The shirt was shredded and blood was dribbling from the wound in his shoulder.  Weakly, the Boy Wonder raised his right hand and placed it against the bullet hole.  Did it matter how he died – dust inhalation, bleeding out, shards of bullet filling his heart and cutting through the organ, infection from a dirty injury, wasting away from lack of fluid and nutrition?  Did it really matter?  No, because dead was dead.

            Robin dropped his right hand and sighed.  There was nothing he could do anymore.  Batman would find the three brave hostages and everything would work out.  The Caped Crusader _always_ triumphed in the end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know absolutely nothing about bullets so I don't know if the scenario I present is plausible. If not, just pretend that tiny shards of bullets can enter a person's bloodstream, travel to the heart and tear it apart. Thanks! ;-)


	8. Chapter 8

** Chapter 8: **

            _Never give up_.

            The short phrase was repeating itself in Robin’s head.  He tried to remove Batman’s commanding voice from his mind but it was impossible.

            “I can’t,” he whispered, “I just can’t.  I’m sorry.  It’s so dark, I just…please stop making me feel guilty!”

            The Boy Wonder wanted to go to sleep.  He wanted to just float into unconsciousness and leave the pain behind.  But Batman was going to be even more disappointed if he ever found Robin’s body.  The Caped Crusader would see the position of his young partner’s skeleton and know that Robin had given up.

            "I hate you," he muttered at the voice as he opened his eyes and pushed himself up to his knees.  Then he froze again; he still couldn't make himself enter the darkness.  But what if Batman didn't have any clues to follow?  What if he never discovered where Catwoman had taken them?  Robin rolled his eyes; that was an idiotic thought.  Batman never failed; he always found a way to defeat the villains.  But what if this was the one time he didn't succeed?  The hostages would never escape because Robin was too scared to enter a dark tunnel.    

            “You’re the Boy Wonder.  Man up, idiot,” he mumbled and pushed one knee into the darkness.  “You’re going to let Richard die?  You’re going to keep him from seeing his family again because you’re afraid?!”

            That was something Robin would never forgive himself for, even in the last few hours of his life, so he forced his body into the tunnel and began the long trip back.  He was not going to let them down – Richard, Sheila and the other brave woman whose name he didn’t even know.  They believed in him and he was going to give them an opportunity to escape.

            It was so dark and so hard to breathe.  Closing his eyes wouldn’t make anything worse so he squeezed them shut and struggled to slow down his breathing.  Inch by inch he traveled through the blackness for what seemed like days.

            “It’s about time!” the familiar voice shouted and Robin’s eyes popped open.  He had never anticipated feeling grateful to hear Catwoman yelling at him but here he was, trying to hold himself back from hugging her.

            A weary, lopsided grin lit up his grimy face as he slid his body out of the crack in the wall, took a deep breath and sat down on the dirt.  Leaning back against the wall, Robin closed his eyes again but didn’t allow himself to fall asleep.  A deep, wracking cough suddenly flew from his chest and the Boy Wonder bent forward and grabbed his torso.  The cough didn’t help his aching ribs or throbbing shoulder, which was bleeding more than it had been in the tiny circle where he had almost given up.

            “Nothing?” Catwoman growled angrily.  Robin slowly opened his eyes and carefully shook his head, which was now thumping in rhythm to the painful pulsing in his shoulder.  “What took you so long then?!” she yelled again.

            Robin opened his mouth to speak but another cough shook his body and he dropped his head.  It was difficult to breathe again and he was spitting dirt out of his lungs with every other breath.

            “He needs rest and water,” Sheila, who was now more concerned than afraid, spoke up on his behalf.  “There’s too much dust in his lungs; trying to breathe is sapping his energy.  And the bullet wound doesn’t help.”  She nearly snarled the last sentence and Catwoman glared at her.  The nurse returned the glare, refusing to back down when her newest patient was in such obvious pain.

            “Leon, grab him.  Felix, get the others up and let’s go,” Catwoman commanded.

            “No,” came a raspy voice.  “Release them…” Robin took a gravelly breath before continuing, “…or I don’t go in any more caves.”  There was a short pause as the teenager picked up the nearest rock.

            “Or I just slam this into my head and possibly die,” he tried to growl.  It didn’t work but everyone heard the threat in his tone.  The Boy Wonder was a bit nervous about giving the villainess an ultimatum but hoped that her greed would overrule her need for captives.

            Catwoman turned her glare to the young crime-fighter, who didn’t even flinch.  Did she really need the hostages?  Batman had no idea where they were anyway.  The nurse wouldn’t be harping about Robin’s condition if she was left in this cave – that was a plus.

            “If I let them go,” the villainess snarled, “you will go in any cave I tell you to enter?”

            “I promise,” Robin got the words out just before he started hacking again.

            Bats always kept their promises, Catwoman knew that, so she turned to the three adults.

            “You are free to go five minutes after we leave.  If any of you try to follow, you will be shot and the idiotic sidekick won’t be able to jump in front of your bullet.  Count slowly to three hundred and then you can begin your trip down the mountain.  Leon, grab him.  Felix, let’s go.”

            Leon walked over to Robin and snatched him off the ground.  Blood began trickling down the young crime-fighter’s arm as the big goon tossed him over his broad shoulder.  Another cough, some wheezy breaths and then the teenager lifted his head.  Looking straight at the teary-eyed former hostages, Robin raised his right hand and, with a pain-filled grin, sent a parting salute.  His body went limp and the adults were left with the image of a true hero, a Boy Wonder, rescuing them with the price of his own life.

            Everything was silent for several moments as tears coursed their way down three pairs of cheeks.

            “One…two…three…” Richard began to count, his voice shaking noticeably.  The women joined in and the old man returned the salute even though Robin was already out of sight.

            “Goodbye, sonny.  And thank you,” he said softly and dropped his head into his hands.

* * *

            Empty.  The large cave was completely empty and Batman deduced, from the obvious lack of evidence, that the group hadn’t even been here.  Turning around, he angrily marched back into the sunlight.  Of course it wouldn’t be the first cave; of course it wasn’t going to be easy to find the felonious feline and her small faction.

            Without realizing it, Batman punched his left palm with his right fist as he glanced up.  There were two large caves on his left about sixty yards away, four on his right about seventy-five yards away and one high above him.  That one was, by his estimation, ninety-three and a quarter yards up the mountain.  Should he start high or go to the closest ones?

            _Holy hesitation, make a decision!_   Robin’s distinctive voice echoed in his brain and Batman chose to go left.  Eight minutes later he heard voices and two minutes after that he could make out the words.   

            “…two hundred ninety-three, two hundred ninety-four…”

            Batman strode into the larger of the two caves and saw three people sitting on the ground, counting.  They were all dirty and there were obvious tear tracks on their cheeks.

            “Why are you counting?” the hero demanded, startling the adults who were staring at the rocky, dirt-covered floor of the cave.

            The two women covered their faces with their hands and began sobbing.  Richard lifted his head and stared sorrowfully into the angry eyes of the Caped Crusader.

            “He’s gone,” the old man stated softly.  “We were supposed to count to three hundred and then start going back down the mountain.  Robin saved us by sacrificing himself.  If he’s not dead right now, he will be soon.”

            “Which way?!” Batman yelled, his eyes now full of apprehension, and Richard pointed to his left.  “Condition?!” the hero demanded and this time it was Sheila who lifted her head.

            “Bullet in the shoulder that shattered on impact; no exit wound; shards could be in his blood stream; two ribs cracked, one possibly broken; horrible, wracking cough from the dirt in his lungs…”

            Holding up his hand, Batman growled, “What is she making him do?”

            The other woman spoke up.  “He had to enter these caves,” she pointed to the three small openings.  “She thinks there is some sort of treasure or something.  He came back empty-handed every time and he was gone for almost two hours in the last cave.”

            “He’s not going to last much longer, sir,” the old man declared loudly, glaring at Batman.  “Do you know what he made me promise?!  He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry!  The last thing he wanted to tell you was that he’s _SORRY_!  Why would your partner want you to know _that_ instead of something like he loves you or it was great working with you?!”

            There was a beat of absolute silence as Richard put a hand on his aching chest, took a deep breath and waited for some sort of reaction.  The hero wasn’t moving so the old man’s eyes became dark with anger and he yelled, “On behalf of the Boy Wonder… _HE’S SORRY THAT HE WAS CAPTURED_!”  Richard’s energy sagged and he closed his eyes, struggling to control his erratic breathing.

            Batman was completely shocked.  Was he really that hard on his partner, his _ward_?!  The boy felt that Batman would be _disappointed_ because he had been captured?!  Shaking his head, tears filled the hero’s eyes and he turned away from the former captives.

            Richard’s blue-gray eyes, now laced with both anger and distress, opened.  He stared at the back of the Caped Crusader and took another deep breath.

            “He fought for us,” the old man continued quietly, “he took a bullet for me, he crawled through every single dirty cave in here to prevent Catwoman from hurting us, he promised to do whatever she wanted if she released us but the last thing he wanted to say to you was sorry.”

            It was Richard’s turn to shake his head.  “And the last thing he did was grin.  Not a fake, I’m-going-off-to-die grin.  A real, genuine, happy-that-the-hostages-are-free grin,” he whispered sadly.

            The women were sobbing again and Richard’s body was shaking with grief.  Tears were sliding down Batman’s cheeks, also, but he couldn’t show weakness in front of people he was supposed to be rescuing.  Quickly swiping away the evidence, he pulled his emotions back and shoved them into a box then turned to face the three adults.

            “Can you make it down by yourselves?” the Caped Crusader’s voice was full of anguish that he couldn’t hold back.  “Do you need help or can I go after him?”

            “GO!” the three shouted simultaneously, their eyes wide with disbelief, and Batman took off. 

            “He had to ask?!” Richard mumbled incredulously.  The women helped him up and they slowly began making their way to the exit.

* * *

            Robin woke up when he landed hard on his left side on a dirt floor.  A rocket took off in his mind and shot down his entire body, leaving pain everywhere it flew.  Slowly opening his tired eyes, he looked around through blurry vision.  They were in another cave, almost the same size as the last one, with two smaller caves in his line of sight.

            “Get up Boy Idiot,” Catwoman demanded and Robin put both palms on the ground.  Holding back a pain-filled cry, he pushed himself up to sitting and shook his pounding head.  The dizziness returned and his vision didn’t improve.  His left arm was wet and Robin knew he was losing a lot of blood.

            “The first one is right in front of you.  GO!” the villainess yelled.  The Boy Wonder didn’t want to move but he had promised.  He always kept his promises and he still would even though he was about to die.  So he rolled onto his hands and knees and slowly began crawling toward the closest entrance.

            “Flashlight?” he called weakly and received a quick slap on the back of his head in reply.  “Awesome,” he mumbled sarcastically and the slap was harder this time.

            “You promised you would do whatever I told you to do,” Catwoman said angrily.

            Still crawling toward the dark opening in the rock, Robin replied, “And I am.  But I didn’t promise to go quietly.”  A small smirk crossed his face as he stuck his head in the cave and then disappeared.

            Thirty seconds later he was inside.  It was bright and the light hurt his eyes.  Robin blinked until they adjusted, which also cleared his vision.  The cave was big and airy; the entrance was the only thing small about it.  There were large boulders and the teen sat down and rested his back against one.  He looked all around the room – no treasures.  But there was no need to return yet; it had only been a few minutes. 

            Robin stared across the empty space.  Then he tilted his head to the right and squinted his eyes.  There was a staircase!  Not a normal one, of course, but there were several rocks jutting out from the opposite wall of the mountain.  He could jump from one to the other and make his way to the top.  Hopefully they went up to the top.  The hostages were gone; he didn’t have to worry about them being hurt if he didn’t return.

            Grinning, the Boy Wonder pulled his legs in, planted his feet on the ground and pushed his back against the wall.  Less than a minute later he was standing up.  He glanced at his left shoulder; he had nothing with which to stop the blood.  There was nothing he could do except press his right hand against the injury.  Gasping in pain at the pressure, Robin stumbled across the room, where the first rock was almost two feet off the ground.

            That one was easy; all he had to do was step up.  The next one was three feet away on his right.  He stretched his right leg as far as he could and the ball of his foot landed solidly on the rock.  Letting go of his shoulder, Robin pushed off the wall with both hands and somehow made it over without falling.  The third one was going to be tricky.  It was four feet above him; he would have to jump and catch then pull himself up with his arms.  A feeling of trepidation raced through his body – this was going to hurt.

            “Just go!” he demanded quietly and then jumped.  He easily caught the edge but a fiery volcano erupted in his wounded shoulder and his left hand dropped off.

            “A one-arm pullup,” the Boy Wonder grunted.  “No big deal.”  But he was unexpectedly hit with a coughing attack and his right hand slipped off.  He crashed to the ground, landing on his back and knocking the wind out of himself.

            _Breathe, idiot_!  Robin was mentally screaming at his lungs but they were too occupied with trying to free themselves from all the dirt caught inside.  He started seeing black spots and attempted to gasp for air.  The circles of darkness grew and began connecting until they overcame his mind and everything went black.

* * *

            “Where is he?!” Catwoman grumbled loudly.  “How long does it take for a little body to get in and out of caves?!”

            Leon took the initiative and walked over to the entrance of the smaller cave.  “You better get out here, kid, or it won’t be just your shoulder that’s hurting!” he shouted.  There was no reply and the henchman got on his hands and knees.  Peering into the darkness, he yelled the sentence one more time.  Nothing but silence from the black hole.

            Sighing, the big goon stood up and shrugged.  “Must be a tunnel or something that he has to get through.”

            “What a great observation,” the villainess stated sarcastically while rolling her eyes.

* * *

            “…hurting!”  The loud sound drew Robin back into consciousness and he opened his eyes.  The noise was right; he was hurting.  He was also flat on his back and staring up at the light that was probably eighty feet above him.

            That had been a stupid idea, trying to make stairs out of rocks.  At least he could breathe again.  The Boy Wonder pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and crawled through the small exit and into the big cave. 

            “Empty-handed again, I see,” Catwoman’s furious voice greeted the teenager and he sighed.

            “There’s nothing here,” he croaked.  “Not just this cave, anywhere.  Just give up and leave.”

            “Not a chance!” she screeched.  “The lost treasure of the Great Bank Robbery is here somewhere and _you_ ,” she pointed a long, golden fingernail at him, “are going to find it.  Or is the baby bird going to break a promise and upset Daddy Bat?” she sneered.

            Shaking his head, Robin whispered, “Water, please?”  He began coughing again and this time some drops of red flew out with the dirt.

            “Felix, water,” Catwoman sighed irritably and the henchman obeyed.

            Robin sat down to drink and grabbed his chest as the water went down.  His breathing turned into gasping and the water bottle dropped from his hand.

            “Done?  Good,” the villainess said without waiting for a reply.  “Next one, Boy Blunder.”  She pointed to the opening right next to Robin.  His eyes were squeezed shut and his body was trembling so the words didn’t register in his mind.

            An unexpected kick to the ribs forced his eyes open and Robin choked on air.  His world began spinning faster but he could faintly see Catwoman’s right index finger pointing at the wall.  Turning, he crawled into the darkness and collapsed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: In the fourth section there is a direct quote from episode 1x19 in the tv show - "The Purr-Fect Crime". So the credit for that goes to Stanley Ralph Ross and Lee Orgel, authors of the script.

** Chapter 9: **

            He was lying on his stomach, his limbs splayed out like a starfish and his right cheek resting on the gritty ground.  The left half of his face felt wet – was it water or blood?  Did he really want to find out?  A tiny drop of liquid hit his left cheek, slid into his mouth and sliced through one of the cotton balls on his tongue.  He had his answer – water.  Relieved, Robin opened his eyes just in time for another drop to splash off his nose.  The tiny wave sent a thin mist into his left eye and his vision went from slightly blurry to completely clear.  Water was helpful in more ways than one, he remembered, so he allowed his jaw to remain slack.  With each little ‘plop’, a dot of the life-sustaining liquid was sent dribbling down his cheek and into the dusty cavern that was his mouth.

            One thought was consuming his mind: don’t move.  Robin’s entire body was aching so his muscles obeyed the thought and remained motionless.  There were voices coming from behind him and the teenager realized that he had only made it a few feet inside the entrance of the most recent cave.

            _Lay here for a while and then crawl out.  She won’t know._

            The Boy Wonder really wanted to obey the voice in his head but Batman would never lie.  So, neither would Robin.  With an inaudible sigh of exhaustion, the young crime-fighter pushed himself onto his hands and knees and began crawling.  His neck was too tired to hold his head up so the teen stared at the dusty, rock-littered ground.  Focused on keeping his eyes open, he paid little attention to the rest of his surroundings as he plodded forward.  The top of his head suddenly connected with something solid, sending a river of dirt cascading down his face.  Wearily glancing up, Robin was dismayed to see that the ceiling was getting lower every few feet.  Soon he was scooting forward on his stomach, like a baby that hasn’t learned to crawl.  Pull with the arms, push with the feet, repeat.  It was going to take forever to get to wherever he was supposed to go and Robin sighed again.

            It was almost completely dark again – the light from the cave behind him was nearly gone – and Robin began to think about going back.  Then there was a light in front of him, only a few yards away.  He continued to pull himself forward and was inches away from the light when he abruptly stopped moving.  His back was flush against the rocks above him, his stomach was flat against the rocks below him and his shoulders were pulsing against the rocks on either side.  How had he not noticed that he was about to get stuck?!

            “Crap,” he wheezed, which started another round of coughing.  But his chest was immobile and there was no room for his lungs to expand.  Pain exploded throughout his torso as the coughs wracked the inside of his body.  Images and memories began flashing through his mind: flying with his parents, performing in front of thousands of people, putting on a Robin-suit for the first time, slapping his Bat-cuffs on Joker and handing him over to the commissioner, Alfred’s smiling face, Batman smirking at him with pride in his eyes and the three of them standing together in the Batcave, laughing about something that Robin couldn’t even remember now.

_I’m sorry…again._

* * *

            He heard voices, one of which was very familiar, and Batman immediately stopped running.  There was a large hole in the mountain, about thirty yards away from him, and the Caped Crusader went into stealth mode.  Upon arriving at the entrance, he hugged the rocky wall and carefully peered around the corner.  Catwoman was standing by a small hole, tapping her foot impatiently, with the large henchman by her side.  They were facing away from Batman but the other henchman was sitting on the ground, staring outside and absently swirling a finger in the dirt.

            A Bat-a-rang was quietly being drawn from a utility belt when the goon on the ground suddenly tilted his head.  Batman froze; had the man heard him?  But the henchman lifted his right hand as if to measure something then dropped his eyes to the ground and began drawing in earnest.  A soundless sigh of relief fled from the lips of the Caped Crusader as he pulled out the weapon and adjusted his grip.  If he timed it right, Batman knew he could quietly take down the artist and knock out the larger man before the muscular goon realized what was happening.

            It was now clear why Catwoman wanted Robin.  The opening to that hole in the far wall was too small for any adult and the Boy Wonder was the only teenager who would willingly go into a cave in order to save the lives of three hostages. 

            Pride filled the older hero’s chest but was immediately replaced by sorrow.  Robin’s reaction to the knowledge of his impending death wasn’t fear or anger.  It was regret, and he had asked an old man to apologize to Batman for him.  Even worse, the apology was for being _captured_ , something that could happen to any crime-fighter!  The Caped Crusader felt guilt building inside him, filling his soul with anguish.  Robin’s last thought was that Batman would be disappointed in him.  And that was going to be the first thing Batman fixed when they were back in the Batcave.

* * *

            This wasn’t exactly how Robin had expected to die.  He had always envisioned himself going down in a blaze of glory while capturing a villain or saving an innocent person.  Not lying on his stomach in a dark tunnel where nobody would ever find him.  The light was so close; if he could just get to the light then he could turn around and figure out how to get back.

            Pulling forward hadn’t been working; the only thing he had accomplished was scraping his bare arms.  Pushing back hadn’t worked, either.  That caused an extremely sharp pain in his chest but didn’t move his body at all.  He was stuck – forever.  Batman would never find him; Robin himself didn’t even know their location!  Even if the older hero did find this mountain, the large cave and the much smaller entrance to this tunnel, the younger hero would either be dead or too weak to call out for help.  Besides, he was the Boy Wonder.  He was going to get out of this by himself or not at all.  And right now it seemed like the latter.

* * *

            The artistic goon was staring intently at the ground, his face screwed up in concentration, and Batman didn’t waste the opportunity.  Racing around the corner, the hero threw the Bat-a-rang in that henchman’s direction while leaping onto the back of the bigger man.  His aim had been good; Felix immediately fell to the ground, completely knocked out.

            Leon felt the weight on his back and a powerful blow to the side of his head.  He saw stars but quickly retaliated by shoving his elbow back.  There was a quiet grunt and Batman was suddenly beside him.

            The Caped Crusader’s first punch, directed at Leon’s face, missed.  The big man had seen it coming but didn’t anticipate the follow-up hit to the chest.  There was an audible crack and Leon stumbled back, his eyes wide with surprise.  He hit the wall behind him but was able to block Batman’s knockout punch.  This time it was Leon’s flat hand slamming against Batman’s ribcage and the hero suddenly understood why Robin had lost the fight.  The boy only had the use of one arm against this brute and Batman was surprised that there hadn’t been any blood at the museum.

            “STOP!” Catwoman yelled and Leon obeyed.  Batman, however, answered to no villain and the large henchman was instantly thrown to the ground and knocked out.  Breathing heavily, and with a hand resting on his obviously bruised ribs, the hero directed a Bat-glare at the woman standing before him.

            “I will ask you once.  Where is he?” Batman growled and Catwoman slyly grinned.

            “ 'Is that any way to greet an old friend?' ” she purred.  “ 'Not even a hello, how are you?' ” 

            Batman remained silent and his glare intensified.  The villainess cringed slightly and pointed toward the small, dark circle beside them.

            “He’s looking for treasure.  He’s not very good at it; you should have trained him better,” she murmured.  “Shall we go?”

            Batman wasn’t shocked that she had said it – Catwoman was always trying to convince him to get rid of his young partner.  He was, however, astonished that she was willing to leave Robin alone in the small cave to waste away.  The hero had always thought that the villainess merely disliked the boy but this was way beyond that – this was hatred.

            Without a word, he grabbed his Bat-cuffs out of his utility belt and put a hand on her shoulder.  Gently twisting her around, although he didn’t feel like being the least bit gentle, Batman put her wrists together behind her back and encased them in the Bat-cuffs.  He sat her down next to the tiny hole and then focused his attention on the darkness.

* * *

            Robin had decided that it was okay to begin panicking.  The light in front of him was beginning to fade, signaling the coming of night.  There was no way he would be able to stay sane if he was trapped between two layers of rock in the dark for even one hour, let alone ten or eleven.

            Allowing himself to panic wasn’t the best idea; it was difficult to breathe and he was beginning to see orange dolphins jumping over a purple ocean.  But the teenager couldn’t think of anything to do.  He had already tried going forward and backward – the only two ways that would get him out. 

            An idea suddenly burst into his mind.  He hadn’t tried twisting his torso because his shoulders were nearly immobile.  _Nearly_.  This was an idiotic plan; he was probably going to dislocate a joint or break a bone.  But which one was worse – more pain in his arm or going insane and never leaving this tunnel?  The choice was easy so he began forming a blueprint of movement in his head.

            The Boy Wonder’s arms were stretched in front of him.  His left shoulder was already a ball of fire so he was going to keep the pain there by twisting right.  That would either dislocate the joint or break his collarbone.  It didn’t really matter; each one would be able to knock him out.  But Robin wasn’t going to allow that to happen.  If it worked, it was the only chance he would have to get free and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

            _I hate you._   The thought was directed at Catwoman right before the teen began implementing his idea.  Twisting toward his right shoulder caused his left to elevate.  It protested the movement and squished itself down into his neck.  There was a loud ‘crack’ and Robin discovered that the collarbone had given in first.

            Shooting stars began leaping over rainbows and black dots started dancing on clouds.  It was an interesting show and Robin had to bite his cheek to keep from losing consciousness.  The resulting blood brought him back from the edge of his mind and he forced his left shoulder forward.  It popped out of the tunnel and a sliver of light trickled down the pain-filled joint.  His head soon followed and five minutes later the teen was gasping for air in the square room that was quickly darkening.  But darkness out here was better than darkness in that tunnel.

            Leaning back against a wall, his body trembling from pain and fear, Robin pulled his knees into his chest and wrapped his right arm around them.  It was completely black now and the teenager whimpered quietly.  Tears began sliding down his cheeks so he tried to think of things that made him happy: Alfred’s cookies and hot chocolate, Bruce helping him when he was frustrated with homework, Batman nodding in satisfaction when Robin accomplished a goal, choreographing and flying through a routine on the high bar, inventing new tricks on the stairs and furniture, being Robin.

            But the suffocating blackness was overcoming the bright thoughts and beginning to choke him.  Villains and beatings and being kidnapped and Joker and knives and evil laughter and riddles and helplessness.  Shadows were floating all around him and Robin wanted to scream.  That would be painful and a waste of energy, though, so he held it back.  He needed to conserve his strength, not squander it, because he was going to find a way out when it was light again.  There was no way he was going to spend another night in this torturous hole of darkness.

            “Batman and Alfred, Batman and Alfred…” Robin squeezed his eyes shut and began whispering the two names over and over.  He could make it through this; he was the Boy Wonder.    

* * *

            The large cave was dark and Batman was shining his Bat-flashlight on the entrance to the smaller one.  If Robin could see light, maybe he could remain calm.  The Boy Wonder hated being in complete darkness and he was all alone.

            The Caped Crusader had yelled his partner’s name several times but silence was the only answer he ever received.  Batman himself was having difficulty remaining calm.  Robin could be dead or extremely injured or going crazy with fear and Batman had no way of knowing what was happening.  The lack of knowledge was killing him and he wanted to tear through the rocks with his bare hands.  That, of course, was impossible so he settled for tightly tying up the two henchmen and pacing furiously around the area.  The Bat-flashlight had been pulled out of his utility belt when the sunlight had begun fading and Batman had been sitting in front of the small hole ever since then.

            “He’s not coming back,” Catwoman purred, her voice full of glee.  “He looked like he was ready to collapse when he entered several hours ago.  I guess it’s just you and me, handsome,” she giggled and Batman shut his eyes in frustration.

            “He’s strong,” the hero replied darkly as he opened his eyes.  “He _will_ make it through this.  And it will never be ‘just you and me’, especially not after what you have done here.”

            The villainess pouted for several seconds then began to grin.  A description would convince her man that his kid was gone.

            “You’re probably _dying_ to know how he’s doing,” she stated.  Batman didn’t say anything; he just glared at the dark entrance and tried to shut out her voice.

            “Well, he was very brave, I have to admit that,” she continued as if Batman had responded.  “He jumped in front of a bullet for that old geezer.  It only hit him in the shoulder but I don’t think it’s completely stopped bleeding.  Especially since everything I’ve used to wrap it up is all shredded when he returns from searching a cave.  I ran out of material; it hasn’t been covered for a while.”

            Pausing, she tried to see the face of the hero but it was impossible in the darkness.  Catwoman sighed; he was probably just glaring anyway.

            “He also fought valiantly; you’ve trained him well in that aspect.  I was actually shocked that he took out Tom and nearly defeated Leon.  He’s the big one over there,” she nodded her head to the henchman who was lying on his back in a corner.

            “With one arm tied behind his back,” Batman growled and Catwoman was surprised.  Realization entered her mind – he must have seen the hostages somewhere on the mountain or in the other cave.

            The villainess giggled again.  “Your little kid continued to crawl in and out of caves even when he sounded like he was hacking up a lung.  It’s nice to have several hostages to use as leverage.”

            “You should probably think about remaining quiet now,” the Caped Crusader growled again, “or I might start to consider doing something that you won’t like.”

            “Tsk, tsk,” Catwoman grinned.  “You are too much of a gentleman to hurt a dainty little lady like myself.”

            “You are not even close to being a lady,” Batman’s voice was low and laced with fury.  “The only way you will become a lady is by giving up your life of crime, serving your time and staying on the right side of the law.  But if Robin dies, I will never consider you to be a lady even if you do everything I just mentioned.”

            “Oh, the insults!” the villainess cried in mock despair.  “How can I live with myself if Batman’s little sidekick bites the dust!”  There was a short pause and then she continued, “It will be quite easy, really.  He was always such a pesky little fly when we were together.”

            “That’s enough!” Batman commanded.  “Robin is my partner and I would never choose you over him!”

            “Are you upset, handsome?” Catwoman asked, her tone teasing and laced with sarcasm.  “Let me make it up to you,” she purred sweetly.

            Growling in frustration, Batman grabbed the can of Bat-sleep out of his utility belt and stated, “Have a good nap.”  He sprayed it in her face then got up and sprayed the henchmen, also.  Now he wouldn’t have to concentrate on anything except getting Robin out of here in one piece.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos messedupstargazer!

** Chapter 10: **

            The chanting faded after only an hour – his chest couldn’t handle the constant movement required to talk.  The only thing that was keeping Robin company was the sound of his own shaky, shallow breathing.  Pressing his legs against his chest wasn’t helping that but the teenager wasn’t going to change the only position in which he felt somewhat safe. 

            Sleep was not coming easily.  Every time Robin drifted off, his head dropped forward and he was jerked awake.  After two hours of giving himself whiplash, the teenager decided to rest his chin on his bent knees.  His neck protested the position slightly but not enough for him to decide to change it. 

            Violent coughs that made his entire body tremble had manifested themselves several times.  The young crime-fighter was now motionless, however, and the lack of movement had calmed the attacks.  His entire left side was numb and he was grateful for that.  A bullet wound and a broken collarbone were things that he didn’t want to add to his list of pain and fear.

_Go to sleep.  You need the rest._

_Are you crazy?!  Stay awake!  Don’t get caught off-guard!_

_There’s nobody else here.  Morning will come quicker if you go to sleep._

_Sleep is a luxury that you can’t afford right now!  You need to plan!_

            It was a silly disagreement and Robin tried to stop his brain from arguing with itself.  Both sides were making good points but they were also giving him a good-sized headache.  If he could stay awake, he might be able to come up with some kind of escape plan.  But, he was really tired and if he could fall asleep then he would have more energy to execute an escape plan.  The argument raged on and Robin listlessly stared at walls that he couldn’t see.

* * *

**The next morning:**

            A pair of weary blue eyes had just closed when a tiny spark of light began shining into Robin’s current residence.  The dark lashes that covered the tired, red-rimmed circles were slowly forced away from the pale cheeks as the miniature ray of sun slid down his face.  His entire body was trembling again, his chest felt like it was about to explode and he had absolutely no energy.  Blood had trickled down his left arm once in a while during the night and there was a small puddle under his limp left hand.

            But he had survived the darkness.  Muted light now filled the room and the teenager grinned slightly in relief.  That feeling turned into shock when he stretched out his legs and looked across the room.  There was a skeleton sitting against the far wall with a hand resting on what looked like an old, rusted machine.  Robin closed his eyes, shook his aching head and re-opened them.  It was still there and he became confused.  How had this person been able to get that large piece of metal into this cave when the Boy Wonder had barely made it in himself?

            A thought pushed itself into his tired mind: there was another way out.  There had to be, unless a rock slide had formed itself into that tunnel.  But that act of nature wouldn’t turn into a space that slowly became smaller and then opened up into a cave.  No, there was another way out.  And Robin was going to find it.

* * *

            Batman hadn’t been able to sleep either.  What if his partner somehow made it out during the night?  The Caped Crusader wanted to be ready to help him and he couldn’t do that if he was asleep on the floor. 

            So another set of blue eyes, slightly darker than the first, wearily stared at a small hole as light filled the large cave.  The Bat-flashlight had been flickering for the last half hour and Batman was grateful that he could turn it off before it died completely.

            He glanced around, remembered that all three criminals had been sprayed with Bat-sleep and let out a sigh of relief.  They wouldn’t wake up without Bat-awake so he didn’t have to worry about containing them.

            “ _ROBIN_!” Batman roared into the hole.  There was no reply so he tried again.  Still nothing and he shook his head.

            The woman who had described Robin’s condition had said that the bullet had shattered and there might be pieces in the Boy Wonder’s blood stream.  That meant shards were traveling toward his heart and would easily begin tearing the organ apart.  Maybe it had already happened; crawling around all over the place certainly wouldn’t help it _not_ happen.  Maybe his sixteen-year-old partner was lying in the cave, already dead.  Maybe it had become too difficult to breathe with all the dirt in his lungs and Robin had suffocated to death.  Maybe the wound in his shoulder had caused him to bleed out, or become infected, and had already killed him.  Maybe he had become irrational in the darkness and somehow accidentally killed himself.  Maybe…

            “He’s alive, he’s strong, he can make it!” Batman yelled at the thoughts twisting crazily around in his brain.

            The words were positive but the feeling in the hero’s chest was not.  It had been almost twenty-four hours since his partner had been shot, since he had taken the bullet that was meant for the old man.  The Caped Crusader realized that soon he would have to accept that the Boy Wonder was dead.  Nobody could survive infected wounds _and_ shards of metal in the heart _and_ bleeding out _and_ lungs coated with dust _and_ whatever else had happened.      

            “Come on, Robin, please,” he whispered.  “Never give up, _please._ ”  Batman was begging the small cave to release his partner, pleading with the darkness to show Robin the way out.  But the black hole remained silent and a feeling of grief began to grow in Batman’s chest – one that he knew would never go away.

* * *

            The light was coming from a small, far-away opening in the ceiling; one that Robin assumed came out at the top of the mountain.  But there was no way to get up there – he didn’t have any Bat-rope or Bat-rockets in his boots or even a Bat-flare to signal his position to anyone who might be nearby.  Also, he didn’t want to move.  He was going to end up like the guy across the room from him, although his skeleton would be marginally smaller.

            Was Catwoman still waiting for him?  She was probably furious.  Good thing there were no hostages left for her to injure or kill.  He hoped they had made it down the mountain and that they would somehow be able to get his message to Batman.

            Robin vaguely wondered if the rusty lump of metal was the “treasure” Catwoman wanted him to find.  What type of machine was it?  Did he care enough to go all the way to the other side of the room?  It was only ten yards away but to the Boy Wonder it looked like fifty.  However, now the fact that he _didn’t_ know was bugging him.

            Sighing, and hoping that his left arm would remain numb, Robin bent his knees and brought them up to his chest again.  His legs were sore from being forced to stay in that position for the entire night.  But he pushed his back against the wall and slowly stood up without giving them a choice.  The teenager’s knees, which were somewhat tender from all the crawling around, protested loudly as all of his weight was placed squarely on their ligaments.

            “Deal with it,” he muttered, irritated with the joints that were only slightly injured.  Sliding his way up the wall had allowed his left arm to rejoin the rest of the pain in his body.  Blood began trickling from the bullet wound and the two halves of his collarbone began grinding against each other.  He should be used to feeling like his bones were on fire; his shoulders had been dislocated more times than he could remember and various parts of his body had been broken or fractured more than once in his short career.

            This fire, however, was different.  Robin had never experienced the pain of a broken collarbone so he wasn’t prepared for the flames of a furnace to start pounding sizzling coals on his neck.  Nor was he aware that a large, hot needle would begin sewing logs of burning wood into the bone.  The skeleton across the room stood up and began dancing while shooting arrows at the hole in the Boy Wonder’s shoulder and the teenager decided that he was just going to go to sleep.  Everything was darkening anyway so it wouldn’t make a difference.

            “ _ROBIN_!”  A familiar voice thundered through the tiny tunnel and Robin’s eyes popped open.

            “Batman?” he whispered weakly as he sank to his knees.  If Batman was here, Catwoman and the henchmen were in Bat-cuffs or tied up.  So the teen didn’t have to worry about arresting anyone anymore.  A sigh of relief slid out of his mouth as he dropped onto his back and slipped into darkness.

* * *

**Five minutes later:**   

            “Robin!  Wake up right now!”

            The Boy Wonder groaned.  He had just fallen asleep; it couldn’t be time to wake up already.

            “ _NOW_!” the voice demanded harshly and Robin opened his eyes.  The dancing skeleton, which had changed from white to a neon yellow, was standing over him and yelling.

            “Go away,” the teen attempted to growl.  “I’m tired.  And I don’t feel good.”

            “I don’t care!” the skeleton retorted.  “If you don’t get up right now then I will never speak to you again!”

            “You’re…you’re not really talking to me anyway,” Robin replied with confusion in his tone.  “You’re dead.”

            “Oh, I’m dead, am I?!” the bones screamed.  “Then how can I do this?!”  The skeleton jumped in the air and landed squarely on Robin’s chest.

            “Stop, that’s mean,” the Boy Wonder mumbled as pain raced throughout his torso.

            “Then get up!  Don’t make me tell you again, young man!”

            “You can’t tell me what to do.  You’re just a pile of bones.”

            “AND YOU’RE AN IDIOT!” the skeleton screamed at him again and this time he stomped his way down Robin’s left arm.

            “Jerk,” the teen muttered, agony filling the word.  He was rewarded with a bony hand slapping the top of his head.

            “I may be a jerk but at least I’m not lying on the floor letting myself die!”

            “That’s because you’re already dead.”

            “Well, at least I had a reason to die here,” the skeleton mumbled.  “You have people waiting for you.  They might not stay for much longer.”  The skeleton looked sad now and was staring straight into Robin’s eyes.

            “Batman?” the teenager whispered and the skeleton nodded as he faded away.  Robin opened his eyes and lifted his pounding head.  The bones of the skeleton were white again and he was sitting against the wall with his hand on the lump of metal.

            “How?” he whispered, the question directed at the pile of bones.  “How do I get out of here?”  But the skeleton remained silent and Robin allowed his head to fall back to the floor.

* * *

            “Come on, Robin, find your way out,” Batman whispered despairingly.  He had turned on his Bat-flashlight again and was shining it in the dark hole.  The light was still flickering, however, and the hero knew it was on the verge of dying.

            _Dying.  Just like Robin._

_You don’t know that!_

_It’s been nearly a day.  He’s gone; just accept it._

_NO!  He’s still alive!  He’s resourceful; he’ll find a way out!_

_If he hasn’t come out by now, he’s not coming out at all.  And you can’t get in there to help._

_He’s the Boy Wonder; he rarely needs help!  He’s sixteen, he’s strong, he’s smart, he’s experienced and he **will** find a way out!  And **I** will find a way in, just in case he’s unconscious._

_Just in case?!  You know he is, otherwise he would already be here.  It’s over._

            “Stop!” Batman commanded the voices in his head.  “Just…stop.”  Standing up, he strode to the entrance of the large cave and stepped outside.  He looked up at the bright sky and shook his head.  They were only halfway up the mountain.  Even if there was an exit at the top, Robin would be too exhausted to get there.  An exit at the top…?

            The man began carefully studying the side of the mountain.  Pulling out his Bat-communicator, he pressed the button and waited impatiently for Alfred to respond. 

            “…it, sir?” the butler’s voice was scratchy and full of static.  “Have…bin…Peak, sir?”

            “Alfred, pull up the image of the mountain again and tell me what’s on top.  Do you see any exits, holes, caves, anything?”

            “…understand…cave?”  Alfred’s tone was laced with confusion and Batman realized that the man probably hadn’t been able to hear most of what the hero had said. 

            “Never mind,” he growled.  Replacing the small device in the front pocket of his utility belt, the Caped Crusader turned back to the large cave.  One more try and then he would go up to find a way down.

           Returning to the small hole, Batman knelt down and tried to force his way inside.  His head went in but nothing else fit through.  He twisted and pushed and jerked but there was no way any other part of him could enter the darkness.

_“ROBIN!”_ he roared again and waited.  There was nothing but the echo of his own voice so he pulled his head out and stood up.  The Bat-flashlight was dead now and it was almost noon.  He needed to find a way in as quickly as possible so that he could get Robin out before complete darkness descended on the mountain.

            He was outside again and Batman went straight for the nearly invisible trail that he had followed with his eyes when he was speaking with Alfred.  It was less of a trail and more of a fewer-rocks-so-it-will-be-faster path.  It would take him at least an hour to get to the top, though, and that was at “Bat-speed”.  Grinning, the Caped Crusader saw an image of a twelve-year-old Robin at his side, practically running to keep up with the hero’s long strides:

            “Slow _down_ , Batman, I don’t have Bat-speed yet!”

            Redirecting his thoughts, Batman began quickly but carefully picking his way up the side of Gotamint Peak.  There was going to be an exit at the top, he was sure of it.

* * *

            Robin was still lying on his back, staring at the tunnel on his left.  He knew he would get stuck again but he couldn’t think of any other way to get out.  There were no stairs that would take him up to the light, no elevator or rocket or anything.  If he didn’t go back the way he had come in, his chance of survival diminished significantly.  But he would be trapped in the skinny tunnel and the dark would attack him again and this time he would go insane.  It would be better to curl up in a ball against the wall and fade away without losing his sanity.

            _Never give up._

            “There’s nowhere to go!” the Boy Wonder whispered in frustration.  His left shoulder was pulsing painfully and his neck was throbbing.  Even if he did want to go back to the tunnel, he doubted that the left side of his body would even allow him to move.

            _CRACK_

            The teenager turned his head and looked up.  A large part of the mountain was separating itself from the side wall.  His eyes widened in alarm; he was about to be buried alive!  That was another one of his worst fears but the panic he was feeling froze him in place.  He couldn’t roll out of the way, he couldn’t jump to his feet and race to the other side of the room, he couldn’t do…anything!

            Robin watched as the clump of earth began tumbling toward him and suddenly the panic turned into adrenaline.  The flames in his shoulder that had marginally decreased in heat flared up again as the bones were forced to accept all his weight when he twisted left.  He rolled until his back hit the wall and his feet hit the machine.  The ball of dusty debris crashed to the floor, throwing gritty sand in the air and shooting pebbles around the room.

            Closing his eyes and mouth, the teenager waited for the sounds to fade and the shaking to stop.  When it did, he counted to ten and then slowly slid his lashes apart.  The dust lingering in the air was sparkling from the ray of sunshine that had burst into the cave.  Robin, his skeleton friend and the rusty machine were coated in a layer of dirt.  There were already small bruises forming where sharp pebbles had ricocheted off his skin.  But at least he wasn’t lying under three feet of suffocating earth.

            Gingerly, with his jaw clenched and his breath coming in gasps, the Boy Wonder sat up.  The flames licking his left shoulder would have to be ignored.  The dirt-slide had given him more light and a little bit of hope.  When a mountain shed some skin, it left a hole.  And Robin was going to find a way to reach that hole so he wouldn’t end up like the pile of bones on his left.

            He glanced in the direction of the skeleton but his eyes landed instead on a symbol on the lump of metal.  The teenager immediately recognized the official seal of the US Department of Treasury – Dick Grayson had been learning about different organizations of the government in his economics class.  Robin studied the machine carefully but it was so old and rusty that it was impossible to find any other distinguishing characteristics.  There were small parts that had obviously fallen off whatever type of machine this was but the Boy Wonder decided that figuring it out wasn’t important enough to waste time staring at it.

            The skull of the person who had died in this underground tomb unexpectedly rolled forward.  It hit the skeleton’s ribcage and the entire torso crumbled to the ground.  Robin’s eyes widened in disbelief: his bony friend had just shown him the way out.


	11. Chapter 11

** Chapter 11: **

            Batman had nearly made it to the top of the mountain when his left leg suddenly sank into the earth.  He could feel rocks tugging themselves away from their resting spots and heard a deep rumble.  The noise lasted for less than a minute and the Caped Crusader was relieved when it stopped.  It had sounded like a rock slide but nothing had come rolling down the mountain at him.  Easily pulling his left leg out of the slight hole it had made, Batman continued his climb and made it to the top ten minutes later.  Well, almost to the top.  He was on a short, flat shelf with a thirty-foot peak looming over him.  Robin wouldn’t be in the peak, though, so this was the place to begin searching for him.

            Batman was tired but the sun was leaning west so the hero refused to stop and rest.  His partner needed to be out of the interior of the mountain before the sun went down.  Otherwise, the young hero might not come out at all.  Slowly walking across the dirt in the shade of Gotamint Peak, he carefully searched for an exit.  There were many cracks and fissures but no large openings.  The Caped Crusader had no idea where Robin was – the tunnel could have curved, it could have stayed straight, it could have made a sharp turn.  If he started digging into one of the crevices, there was the possibility of a cave-in.

            _A cave-in!_   Batman remembered his leg sinking into the earth and the muffled roar that had come from the mountain.  Maybe he had inadvertently buried his young partner under ten tons of dirt!  Robin was terrified of being buried alive and Batman may have just caused that fear to become a reality.

            Carefully racing back to the slight hole he had accidentally created, the Caped Crusader knelt down and peered inside.  His shadow fell across the opening, making it impossible to see anything, so he used his voice instead.

            “ _ROBIN!_ ”  There was no answer, not even a faint cry for help.  Growling in frustration, Batman ascended the mountain again.  He began pacing from one end of the shelf to the other, attempting to form some kind of plan.  There had to be some way to get his partner out; the hero just had to find it.

* * *

            Another tunnel.  Robin’s old friend had revealed a tiny hole, too small for even him, but the teenager could tell that the opening was larger than that.  He was going to have to move the machine or somehow get around it.  There was no way he could push the huge pile of rusty metal out of the way with just his right arm so the Boy Wonder really hoped that it wasn’t tight against the wall.  As long as there was a skinny space between the machine and the hole, Robin was about to escape from his almost-tomb.

            “Robin!”  The teenager heard a faint cry from above him and attempted to look up with just his eyes.  That didn’t work so he painfully tilted his head back and rested it on the wall behind him.  Light suddenly assaulted his blue eyes and he realized that something had been covering the recent opening near the top of the cave.

            _Batman?_   The noise had sounded like his partner but the call had been so quiet that Robin couldn’t be sure.  What if it was Leon?  No, Batman had yelled at him earlier from the large cave the Boy Wonder had left behind.  That meant Leon and Felix and Catwoman were all secured.  A small smirk lit up the dusty features: the Caped Crusader _always_ triumphed in the end.

            Robin was suddenly attacked by a fit of coughing.  His right hand grabbed the red fabric covering his chest as his lungs attempted to burst through his skin.  Black spots began dancing across his vision, he couldn’t breathe and giant razor blades were sawing through the muscles in his left shoulder.  The teenager’s brain demanded that he close his eyes and float away from the pain but he resisted the temptation.  If he went to sleep, he might not wake up and that was unacceptable, especially since he had finally found a possible escape route.

            The coughing eventually subsided but the sharp pain remained and began spreading itself across his entire torso.  He was merely wheezing now but Robin was sure that his death was imminent.  If fragments of the bullet hadn’t penetrated his bloodstream before now, the Boy Wonder knew that the attack had probably allowed them easy entry.  Twenty-four hours, if he was lucky.  Escaping meant exercise, which meant his heart would be pumping harder and blood would be moving faster.

            “Ten, maybe twelve,” he grunted quietly.  At least he wouldn’t have to spend another night down here.  Gritting his teeth, Robin pushed himself up to his knees.  Neon green boulders began rolling down the walls of his mind but the Boy Wonder forced himself to shuffle around the edge of the machine.  There was a large gap between it and the now-huge mouth of the tunnel.  An agonized grin skimmed across his face – he was going to make it out.

* * *

            Night was descending on the mountain and Batman’s chest was heavy with grief.  There was no way Robin could still be alive.  It had been two days since the teenager had been shot and, even if shards of the bullet hadn’t made it into his heart, the wound was undoubtedly severely infected and still bleeding.  The Boy Wonder was strong but not indestructible.  Even if Batman found a way in soon, he still had no idea of his partner’s location.  The man could find an entry on one end while the boy was stuck on the other end.  Batman felt virtually helpless – he had no plan and almost no light.  Robin needed him and the Caped Crusader was failing.  A small wave of hopelessness slowly washed over him and he began to think about giving up.

* * *

            Far away under the very spot where Batman had stopped to contemplate whether or not to quit trying, Robin was sitting in the opening he had discovered and telling a story.  His thoughts were jumbled and it was difficult to remember what he was supposed to be doing.  So, in a near-delirious state, the teenager was entertaining his bony friend with a tale that was both fictional and non-fictional.

            “Once upon a time, there was a little Robin.  He was timid and weak and scared of nearly everything.  Then he met a Batman.  The Bat helped the Bird become strong and brave.  The Robin learned how to defeat things that attacked him.  The Batman taught him how to ignore pain and push himself through whatever was thrown his way.

            One day the Bird made a really stupid decision, one of many he had made in his life.  But he couldn’t find the Bat to apologize for his mistake.  So the Robin began searching everywhere.  He swam across oceans, he ran across continents and he flew to the sky.  But the Batman was nowhere to be found.  Suddenly, the Bird realized that he hadn’t tried looking _in_ the earth.  So he began crawling around underground, calling out for the Bat and hoping that he hadn’t lost him forever.

            After months and months of crawling, the Bird finally heard the Bat’s voice.  It was far away and sounded upset.  The Bird knew he had disappointed the Bat and needed to say sorry.  But the Robin was dying and couldn’t find the source of the sound.  The Robin realized that he wouldn’t be able to find the Batman before he died.  However, he also realized that if he came out of the caves he might be able to leave one last message.”

            Robin suddenly stopped talking.  It was difficult to breathe, his vision was wavering and his torso was throbbing angrily.

            _Crawling around, I should be crawling around.  My old friend Bob said people are waiting for me.  Bob.  That’s a funny sound._

            “BOB!” Robin yelled and chuckled crazily.  The laughter nearly made him fall backwards and he realized that he was supposed to be crawling through the darkness behind him.  So, turning around, the teenager began to crawl.  His left arm was useless and his hand was dragging across the rough ground.  It was slow going, only being able to use one arm, but eventually Robin made it far enough that the light behind him was no longer visible.

            “Dark, dark, it’s dark in the park,” the Boy Wonder whispered in a sing-song voice.  “Dark, park, lark, hark, shark, nark, spark.  Light, might, kite, flight, height, bite, sight.  Bat, cat, sat, mat, prat, gnat, pat.”  The rambling sentences were mumbled as Robin made his way through the darkness, his blue eyes now bright with an infection-induced fever.

            “Robin…” he paused then growled, “too long to rhyme.  Stupid name.”

            The teenager’s head unexpectedly hit a rock, causing him to stop and open the eyes that had just barely fallen shut.  The tunnel was curving left and beginning to go uphill.  Groaning, Robin continued on and was surprised when a sliver of sunlight suddenly peeked through a small crack in the mountain.  The dot of yellow began prancing in front of him and Robin decided to try to catch it.  Grinning, he pushed off his right hand and pounced on it.  Carefully lifting his fingers, he was disappointed to see that it was gone.  And then it wasn’t gone.  It was several yards in front of him and the Boy Wonder quietly struggled forward.  This time he dove and cried out in agony when he landed on his stomach.  The dot giggled and disappeared around the next corner.

            “You’re going to regret that!” he yelled, or so he thought.  It was actually a pain-filled whisper that caused him to cough up some more dirt.

            “You’re as mean as Bob,” Robin continued after the coughing subsided.  Frowning, he pushed himself up again and crawled after the rude ray of sunshine.  But he was disappointed again when he rounded the corner.  The spot was gone and there was no light anywhere.  It was completely black all around him.

            _Great.  On top of everything else – everything else? – now I’m blind._  

            Without realizing it, the Boy Wonder had continued crawling up the tunnel and was surprised again when the top of his head bumped into something hard.  Dirt tumbled down around him and this time he started sneezing.  It was a dead end.  He was stuck…again.

* * *

            Batman had decided to dig a shallow hole every ten feet all the way across.  If there was no entry point, he would go back to the beginning and dig deeper.  He would repeat the pattern until the mountain was falling down around him because he was Batman _._   And Batman _never_ gave up.

            So there he was, digging his fifth hole by the light of the crescent moon.  The fabric of his gloves was already wearing out and he would soon be using his bare hands.  But finding Robin was more important than keeping his fingers from bleeding so he didn’t really care.

            Holes five, six, seven and eight revealed exactly the same thing all the others holes had: nothing.  There was just enough space for one more hole before he had to start over.  He stopped three feet from the edge of the steep cliff on the south side of the mountain and began to dig.  The only sounds were the whisper of the chilly breeze, the whoosh of soil being thrown around and the grunts of exertion from the hero as he pulled dirt out of the ground.

            Nothing again and Batman was discouraged.  Each hole was only about two feet deep and he wished he had the Bat-shovel that was in the Batmobile.  It would be a waste of precious time to go get it so the Caped Crusader stood up, stretched his back and turned to walk north – back to hole number one.

            A quiet sound made him freeze.  It could just be a wild animal climbing around but any noise deserved his attention.  Kneeling down again, Batman put his right ear against the ground and listened carefully.  He heard it again, a soft swish that could almost be a sneeze.  But the wind was picking up and dirt was beginning to swirl around on the ground beside him.  Flying dust also made a swishing noise and the hero was disappointed.

            Suddenly there were several different sounds: a light thud – twice – and the rustle of a clump of earth.  The last sound he easily identified.  The Caped Crusader had been hearing it for the last half-hour as he dug his way across the ledge.  But he couldn’t tell where the noise originated.  It was close, he knew that much, but it was too quiet to pinpoint its exact location.

            A loud gasp of air caused Batman to turn south again and take two long strides to the end of the shelf.  Looking over the edge, he was shocked to see a small arm sticking out of the side of the mountain about ten feet below him.  The limb was frantically moving around, the hand clasping and un-clasping, but there was nothing to grab except air.

            Batman immediately dropped to his stomach, planted his left hand firmly on the edge and extended his right arm over the cliff.  The small hand was just out of reach and he growled in frustration.

            “ROBIN!” he thundered, “I’M UP HERE!  TURN AROUND AND REACH UP!”

            Now he could see a clump of dirty hair and the arm twisted toward the sound of Batman’s voice.  The hand began wiggling its fingers, attempting to find the source of the noise as it began reaching toward the hand of the Caped Crusader.

            “Come on, you can do it, reach,” Batman murmured.  They were so close and the hero tried to stretch his arm farther.  He couldn’t move his body; he wouldn’t be able to support the weight of both of them if he was hanging too far off the edge.  The only thing he could do was hope that his partner could get his entire arm out of the hole.

            Their fingertips were touching now and Batman tried to grasp them.  He couldn’t go any farther, though, and Robin had stopped extending his arm.

            “Come on, Robin!” the Caped Crusader yelled.  “Keep reaching, you’re almost there!”  Instead of stretching up, the arm began falling down and suddenly went limp.  There was a quiet ‘snap’ and Batman knew that a muscle had just been torn apart.

            “Robin, wake up!  Don’t you dare stop trying!  OPEN YOUR EYES AND GET YOUR ARM UP HERE!”  The last sentence was roared and echoed down the mountain but the small limb didn’t even flinch.

* * *

            Robin didn’t feel like turning around and going back.  This tunnel had been his only hope anyway so there was really no point.  It was time to accept that he was going to die.  At least the fire burning throughout his body would be gone soon.  He wouldn’t have to worry about bullet fragments or broken collarbones or infected injuries or anything else.  The hostages were safe, the bad guys had been taken care of and everything was fine.  So the Boy Wonder situated himself into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes.

            “See Richard you Batman sorry tell if please…” the jumbled sentence trailed off into a sigh as Robin officially gave up on escaping from the cave.  He had tried but it hadn’t been good enough.  Batman could survive without him; everything would still be fine.

            The teenager was lying on his back, his legs slightly curved around the last bend in the tunnel.  His right arm was exhausted from having to pull his body up the mountain so he stretched it over his head in an attempt to loosen the tight muscle.  It was an automatic action; he didn’t consciously care about his fatigued muscles.

            But suddenly he did care and his eyes popped open.  As his arm began to straighten, his hand slid through soft dirt that easily crumbled around his wrist.  He pushed harder and his hand hit cold air.  All of the caves – the entire mountain – had been hot.  Cold air meant outside air and a spark of hope lit up the blue eyes.  Bob really _had_ shown him the way out!

            The Boy Wonder began shoving his hand through the make-shift hole, attempting to dig the earth out of his way.  Dust was attacking his face so he closed his eyes and tried to hold back a fit of coughing.  He began sneezing instead, allowing dirt to enter his lungs – although not as much as when he was coughing.

            His entire right arm was cold now and he could see pale light shimmering on the puffs of dust gliding on the gentle breeze.  Robin began searching for something to grab so he could pull himself out.  But no matter where he moved his arm, he was only able to grasp air.  There had to be a tree or a rock or some shrubbery that he could use to escape!  His movements became more frantic as he began to panic.  The dirt was threatening to swallow him, covering his entire head and attempting to shove itself into his nose and mouth.  But he was so close and the Boy Wonder wasn’t going to allow the mountain to win.

            “ROBIN!” a voice thundered at him, “I’M UP HERE!  TURN AROUND AND REACH UP!”

            He had no idea which way was up so Robin guessed.  Twisting his arm around, he stretched it as far as he could.  A grunt of pain was forced out of his mouth as his collarbone began screaming at him to stop.  Something solid began dancing along his fingertips and the teenager tried to reach higher.  Without realizing it, Robin allowed his lips to part slightly as he focused entirely on attempting to grab whatever he was touching.  A clump of earth dropped from the upper half of his tunnel, straight into his mouth, and the Boy Wonder began choking.

            _Roll!_   His brain yelled the instruction and Robin attempted to obey.  But there wasn’t much room and his struggles were feeble.  He was breathing dirt instead of air and swirls of darkness, blacker than the night itself, began devouring his mind.  His right arm dropped and he felt a ‘snap’ in his bicep.  The earth was winning the battle and Robin began fading away. 

            “…OPEN YOUR EYES AND GET YOUR ARM UP HERE!”  The teen felt like those sounds were supposed to be loud but the water rushing in his ears was muffling the noise.  He knew they were words but his oxygen-deprived brain couldn’t figure out their meaning.  A picture flashed through his mind: a tall, muscular man with dark wings, standing on a mountain with a little bird perched on his right shoulder.  A ghost of a smile tiptoed across Robin’s mouth – the Bat and the Bird.

_Never give up._


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: A plot point is mentioned near the middle of this chapter. It is from episode 2x54 in the tv show - "Batman's Waterloo". So, the credit for that goes to Leo and Pauline Townsend, authors of the script. Also, I'm not making any money off of using it. :)

** Chapter 12: **

            “ _ROBIN!_ ” Batman, still on his stomach, was roaring at the seemingly lifeless arm of the young crime-fighter.  It was the fifth time he had shouted that word in the last thirty seconds.  But his partner wasn’t moving and the Caped Crusader knew he had to get down there.  However, his Bat-rope was currently resting tightly around the strong wrists of Leon and the cliff was not at all suitable for free-climbing.  The always-has-every-necessary-item utility belt was failing him; he knew there was nothing helpful for this situation because he had triple-checked every pocket before beginning to dig the nine useless holes that were spread across the ledge.  He had nothing.

            “WAKE UP!” he yelled and pounded his right hand against the side of the mountain in frustration. 

            Jumping to his feet, he raced to the path that had brought him here and stumbled his way down to the cave where he had left the villains.  They were all still unconscious but Batman sprayed them with Bat-sleep again, just in case.  It was going to be dangerous to leave Leon untied but the hero didn’t have time to worry about that.  The man would probably just take off down the mountain anyway.  If he even woke up, which he wouldn’t because nobody woke up from Bat-sleep without Bat-awake.

            He had to hurry but untying a Bat-knot required patience.  Batman knew he would need the full length of the Bat-rope so he wouldn’t be able to slice it apart with his Bat-knife.  It didn’t help that he had no light.  Closing his eyes to block out the fact that he couldn’t see anyway, Batman deftly began untangling the strong Bat-knot.  The hero growled at himself; of course _this one_ would be one of his best and tightest Bat-knots.

            Six hundred and twenty-seven seconds later – counting helped him concentrate on the Bat-knot instead of the image of a pale, limp arm – the Caped Crusader felt the last piece of Bat-rope slide out of the last loop.  If he was anyone except Batman, he would have whooped with joy.  Instead, there was a soft sigh of relief followed by a quiet grunt of satisfaction.  Standing up, he tossed a fury-filled glare in the direction of Catwoman before sprinting out of the cave’s entrance and back up the side of Gotamint Peak.

            Nearly an hour to get down, almost eleven minutes to undo the Bat-knot and forty-nine minutes to get back up.  Retrieving the Bat-rope meant that Batman had left Robin hanging out of the side of the mountain, alone, for close to two hours.  But he hadn’t been able to think of any other way to get to his partner in the short amount of time he had wasted calling Robin’s name. 

            When he reached the flat shelf, the hero fastened his Bat-rope to a Bat-a-rang and quickly threw it at the peak of the mountain.  It didn’t catch so he did it again.  The same thing happened and Batman yelled insults at the jagged chunk of rock that was resisting his efforts.

            Giving up on throwing after two more tries, the Caped Crusader climbed up instead.  There was another ledge two feet below the very top, one just large enough for him to stand on while completing his task.  He threw the Bat-a-rang around the peak twice then forced it into the small space between two large, sturdy rocks.  Pulling it taut, Batman wrapped the other end around his waist and tightened it securely with another strong Bat-knot.  He would need both hands to pull Robin out and the boy probably wouldn’t be able to help.

            “ROBIN!”  Batman glanced down and saw that the arm was still limp.  He turned around, grabbed the Bat-rope and jumped backwards off the small shelf.  The Caped Crusader was very good at rappelling and it would only take a few minutes for him to travel the thirty-eight feet to his partner’s position.  Especially since he was Bat-rappelling.

* * *

            “Robin, Robin, Robin, Robin, Robin,” the headless skeleton giggled as it danced across the fading light in the Boy Wonder’s brain.  “Wake up, little birdy, it’s time to wake up.  The big bat is waiting for you.  WAKE UP!”

            _Not you again!  Why can’t you just leave me alone?  I’m not going back to your cave; I’m staying here.  Go away!_

            “NO!”  Bob the pile of bones was yelling at him again and the small part of Robin’s brain that was still awake became annoyed.  He couldn’t even die in peace?!

            Bob began jumping on the teenager’s chest, causing dirt to spew out of Robin’s mouth with each bounce.  He began coughing again, a deep hacking sound that filled his body with pain and tossed more dirt out of his lungs.  Air began filling in the leftover gaps and suddenly the Boy Wonder was sucking in oxygen. 

            The coughing continued for three excruciating minutes.  Robin felt like his insides were about to explode but he couldn’t stop the attack.  His right arm was stuck outside, his left shoulder had disappeared underneath a pile of earth and his eyes were squeezed shut to block out the dirt.

            When the coughing finally subsided, the teenager carefully opened his eyes.  Specks of dust flew into the air as he blinked rapidly, attempting to clean the dirt out of his vision.  The small part of his brain that was still functioning properly commanded him to get his head out of the mountain.  Robin realized that his legs were still free so he bent them until his feet were resting against the curved wall of the tunnel.

            _One…what comes next?  One…seven?  One, seven, go!_   He pushed his feet against the wall as hard as he could and was slightly surprised when his head slid toward the opening he had created.  His torso didn’t agree with the movement but, having no other choice, it reluctantly followed.  Robin repeated the action and suddenly a chilly breeze was gliding lightly across his face.

            Everything was dark except for a sliver of silver moonlight that fell upon his left eye.  The Boy Wonder’s face was covered with dirt and small flecks of blood, his hair was sticking up in several different directions and his right eye was in the shadow of the mountain, making him appear like some sort of creature from a nightmare.  But he was breathing real, outside air instead of stuffy, dust-filled air and his brain began to re-awaken.

            Robin didn’t move for a while.  The smells of the outside world had never been so delightful and he was enjoying the different scents: muddy animal fur, slimy rocks, dirty river water and droppings from a variety of mountain-loving creatures.

            Pain unexpectedly interrupted his new-found appreciation for nature and the teenager realized that a pebble had forced itself into the bullet hole in his left shoulder.  He couldn’t see it but he could feel the skin stretching as the small rock shoved its way inside.  It was amazing to him how much better his senses worked when he was lying on a mountain not doing anything.  Smell, touch…

            “ROBIN!”

            And, apparently, hearing.  How was he able to hear Batman yelling his name?  The man was with Catwoman in the cave that was probably several miles behind the teen but Robin could hear the word as if his partner was only a few feet away from him.  Interesting.  If he didn’t die before seeing Batman, the Boy Wonder decided he was going to ask the older hero to teach him how to shout through layers of rocks.

            With that thought in mind, Robin determined that it was time to get out of the mountain.  He wouldn’t learn that skill if he didn’t escape and, for some reason, having that ability was suddenly extremely important to him.

            Flexing his right hand, and grimacing at the pain in his bicep, Robin again began searching for something to grab.  It was still only air that he was feeling and he didn’t understand why he couldn’t seem to find anything else.  He knew his arm was outside and he knew that things grew on mountains: trees, bushes, cacti, etc.  Why couldn’t he locate whatever it was that thrived on this particular chunk of rock?  Maybe he needed to push himself out farther.

            So he did.  He couldn’t reach the curved wall so he separated his legs until each foot was touching a side wall.  The heavy ache in his left shoulder spread to his neck when he pushed off the walls but Robin was highly motivated to escape.  The teen _had_ to learn how to shout through a mountain; it was imperative for him to acquire that skill even though he knew he was going to die soon.

            His muscular legs gave him plenty of momentum and his entire torso was suddenly out in the open.  Refusing to support the weight of his upper body, the Boy Wonder’s back automatically arched.  Now he had a bird’s eye view of a crescent moon waving at him from the bubbling water of the river that separated his mountain from three others.  Unfortunately, he realized, he was coming out of the side of the mountain instead of the top.  The tunnel, which was now caving in completely, had led him _toward_ the top but had tricked him.  There was nowhere to go except down.  He wasn’t going to see Batman because he was about to fall to his death, just like the rest of the Flying Graysons.  At least he wouldn’t have to look up and see someone he loved just out of reach.  Robin wouldn’t have to see the anguish in the eyes of the person he was leaving behind because nobody was here to watch him crash to the ground.

            The teenager’s legs were outside the mountain now and the earth was still crumbling around him.  His body swung down, the back of his head hit the mountain and his view of the moon disappeared.

* * *

            It should have been an easy catch.  Batman, as he was Bat-rappelling down the mountain, watched in shock as Robin shoved his body out of a small hole.  He was only eight feet away from his young partner; one push would take him down ten feet, enabling him to snatch the small frame before it hit the wall.  But Robin’s momentum and the arch in his back quickly dropped him an extra three feet.  Batman was in the middle of his jump and, instead of catching his partner, the Caped Crusader nearly smashed the boy’s stomach with his boots.  Luckily, he had enough body control to separate his legs.  One foot landed on either side of the Boy Wonder’s body and the older hero quickly pushed off again.

            There was a distinct ‘thud’ as Robin’s head hit the mountain but Batman was too focused to hear it.  His partner’s legs had flipped out of the now-collapsed hole and the man was concentrating on the boy’s legs.  Since he had missed the opportunity to make an easy catch, he would have to grab the pair of small ankles while in the middle of his current jump.

            It was a difficult catch and he missed, although it wasn’t entirely his fault.  Batman reached for the ankles but grabbed only air.  Robin’s body had hit a small ledge at an angle.  His frame tilted right, throwing his legs to the side instead of leaving them pointing up.  Now the boy was falling sideways instead of upside down.  That was actually an improvement because a waist was easier to catch than a pair of ankles.

            Pushing off the mountain again, Batman reached for his partner’s torso.  Easily wrapping his strong hands around the midsection, the Caped Crusader bent his knees to slow down his next jump.  But he had forgotten that digging nine, two-foot deep holes had shredded his gloves and left his hands somewhat bloody.  Robin slipped out of the hands that were caked with blood and dirt and his body tilted right again.  Batman had substantially slowed his momentum and was about to watch his partner crash to the ground that was now only sixty feet away.

            The boy was right-side up, his head gently bumping the rocks as he fell.  His eyes were closed and everything was limp.  The left arm had already dropped and Batman frantically reached for the right one that was on its way to Robin’s side.

            “ _ROBIN_ ,” he roared, “ _OPEN YOUR EYES!  WAKE UP AND REACH FOR ME_!”

            He knew it wasn’t going to work.  The ‘thud’ that Batman had missed earlier finally registered in his brain.  That sound had been Robin’s head connecting with solid rock and the young crime-fighter was completely unconscious.  The Caped Crusader’s momentum was practically non-existent and even if he pushed off hard he wouldn’t make it.  Robin was falling too fast and his right arm had now joined the left by the boy’s side.

            But he was Batman.  And Batman _never_ gave up.  So he pushed off again and flipped himself upside down.  There would be no more jumps off the wall; he lost that advantage by choosing to lead with his head.  This was his, and Robin’s, last chance.

            “Please wake up,” the hero whispered as he stretched his arms as far as they would go.  “Open your eyes and look up.  Reach for me, _please_.”  Batman’s words were swept away by the wind.  He saw an image of a young Dick Grayson, staring down at his parents as they fell toward the cement that was the circus floor.  Tears clouded his vision – so this is what it felt like to watch someone you cared about crash to the ground.

            They were thirty feet away now and Batman felt the Bat-rope tighten around his waist.  He was out of space, out of time and out of Bat-rope.  If he hadn’t taken so long to untie the Bat-knot, if he had climbed up the peak immediately instead of trying to throw the Bat-a-rang four times, if he hadn’t wasted thirty seconds fruitlessly calling his partner’s name, if he had grabbed Robin’s legs after almost landing on the boy’s stomach, if he had traveled up and down the mountain faster, if, if, if….

_Just open one eye.  Look at me and lift up your arm.  Come on!_

_“ROOOOOOOBIIIIIIIN!”_   Batman thundered, drawing the name out for as long as he could.  But the only thing that moved was the dark hair that was flying around in the wind.

* * *

            There was a soft noise above his head and Robin stirred.  Air was, for some reason, rushing up his body.  He couldn’t open his eyes and he didn’t know why Batman was saying his name so quietly.  But he did know that Batman was above him and the tone sounded urgent.  If they were in some sort of emergency, wouldn’t his partner be yelling, not whispering?

            Pictures abruptly rushed through the Boy Wonder’s mind.  Bob, darkness, rusty metal, the Bat and the Bird, falling, a voice from above…Batman!  His eyes flew open and Robin tried to throw his arms over his head.  He was panicking again and the feeling overpowered everything else, even the pain that resulted from moving his broken collarbone.  The panic erased the pain but his arms rejected the idea of going up.  The bullet wound and broken bone kept his left arm by his side and his torn right bicep refused to allow his arm to move.

            “Batman!” he tried to yell but the wind turned it into a gulp of air. 

* * *

            A memory of Robin about to be thrown into a pot of boiling oil in King Tut’s royal oil boiling room suddenly burst into Batman’s mind like a rocket.  The Bat-pellet!  He had been tinkering with the chemicals and had several different versions in a pocket of his utility belt.

            Leaving his left arm outstretched toward Robin, the Caped Crusader opened that specific pocket and carefully brought out a handful of Bat-pellets.  Foam – would disintegrate when it hit the rocks; Egyptian cotton – not solid enough; a thick pad of grass – not enough of a barrier between the rocks and his partner; a trampoline-like safety net – would tear on the rocks.

            No!  It wouldn’t tear!  There was a small gap between two large rocks.  If he aimed and timed it correctly, which he always did, Batman would be able to open the safety net in between the rocks right before Robin landed there.

            Quickly shoving the other Bat-pellets back into his utility belt, the hero lined up his shot.

            “One,” he murmured.  A scream of wind with what sounded like his name rushed through the air and Batman tensed.  Robin was awake; that would be helpful.

            “Two, hang in there, old chum,” the man whispered.

            “Three!” he yelled, throwing the Bat-pellet as hard as he could.  There was a loud noise, a blast of smoke and Robin disappeared.

* * *

            “Three!”

            Robin heard the yell and attempted to look up.  There was a dark shadow above him, almost completely blocking the moon, and a spark of hope replaced the painful flames in his chest.  Then there was an explosion beneath him and he was breathing smoke instead of air.  He hit something that accepted his weight and threw him back up toward the mountain.  The Boy Wonder didn’t want to go back up there so he put his right arm up, ready to push off the rocks when he hit them.

            A strong hand wrapped itself around a small wrist.  The hand quickly turned into two strong arms as Batman grabbed the teenager before he could slam into the mountain.  The momentum turned them both upright and the older hero immediately wrapped his left arm around the Bat-rope in order to keep them that way.

            “Batman,” Robin whispered, his voice shaking.

            “I’m here, Robin.  I’ve got you, old chum,” came the reply from a voice that was equally shaky.  The Boy Wonder was being crushed against the muscular chest of the Caped Crusader and both bodies were trembling from fear and exhaustion.

            “I almost,” Robin immediately stopped as a shudder ran down his body.

            “But you didn’t,” Batman replied, squeezing his partner tighter when he felt the movement.

            “I’m sorry.”  The words were whispered and several silent tears slid down the dirty, pain-filled face of the teenager.

            “Stop,” the man commanded.

            “You know we’re about to be upside down, right?”  There was a smirk in the sentence and Batman, who hadn’t realized that fact, quickly brought his feet up.  He planted them against the side of the mountain, effectively ensuring that their bodies would remain upright.

            “Of course I knew,” the man replied defensively.

            “Thanks for catching me.”

            “Thanks for waking up.  I needed the help.”

            Robin, his head resting on his partner’s chest, listened to Batman’s heart as it went from erratic to calm.  The even beating made the teenager sleepy and he closed his eyes.

            Batman felt his partner relax against him and smiled.  His boy, although sixteen years old, was still comforted by the sound of the man’s beating heart.  He suddenly wished that Robin would stay this age forever; that he would never grow up and that they would always be the Dynamic Duo.

            “Hey,” Robin mumbled sleepily, “do you think we could get off this mountain?  I need a shower.  Also, do you have any Bat-wrap?  My left collarbone is broken and my shoulder is bleeding again.  I was shot, did she tell you that?  It was pretty awesome!”  The teenager was now wide awake and Batman was surprised that he sounded excited about being shot.

            “I jumped right in front of the gun!” the boy exclaimed as he lifted his head.  “Richard – oh, yeah, the old guy was named Richard, isn’t that funny?  Anyway, she was going to shoot him – the guy’s eighty years old! – and I just slid right in between her Cat-bullet and his heart.  I’m pretty sure she was aiming for his heart.  It could have been his head, I guess.”

            Batman opened his mouth but Robin continued before he could say anything.

            “I went back.  I didn’t want to, but I went back.  Richard die family and not forgive.  Then stuck bone and Bob danced!  The Bird found the Bat because Bob died!  Machine hand, though.  Wish he could come.  Mean first but then let out.  Catwoman not a nice person.”  The last sentence was mumbled with a sigh.

            Batman became worried; his partner was starting to ramble.  He went back where?  Richard’s family died – which Richard?  Grayson or the old man?  Who was not going to forgive whom?  Who was Bob and why was he dancing?  What was a machine hand?

            Still holding his young partner tightly with his left arm, Batman put his right hand on Robin’s forehead.  It was gritty from tiny pebbles and slimy with sweaty mud.  And it was hot – very hot.  The shoulder was probably infected and, in addition to everything else, Robin had mentioned a broken collarbone.

            The rambling had become mumbles of gibberish and the Caped Crusader wrapped both arms tightly around the small body of the Boy Wonder.  With his right hand he gently pushed the boy’s head back onto his chest.

            “Sh, Robin, just relax.  Let’s go home and you can tell me all about it.”  Batman kept his voice quiet, hoping the tone would soothe the boy and make him fall asleep.  It worked; his partner was breathing steadily, although it was very shallow, and was no longer mumbling.

            Batman began walking his feet down the mountain.  Two minutes later he was standing on level ground, right beside the safety net.  Gently laying Robin on the soft material, the Caped Crusader cut the Bat-rope off his waist with his Bat-knife.

            “To the Batmobile, Robin,” Batman said quietly with a grin.  He picked up his partner and strode toward the vehicle that was fifty yards away.

* * *

            Everything was fuzzy but, for some reason, he was free.  He opened his eyes and looked around.  His head hurt and his ribs were sore but he was able to sit up.  His vision cleared and he carefully examined his surroundings.  Closing his eyes again, he concentrated on trying to remember what had happened.  Several caves, a fight, Catwoman and Batman.  He grinned as he opened his eyes.

            _Everyone always underestimates my mind._

            Batman had sprayed them with some kind of Bat-gas that knocked them out.  Leon had heard about the famous sleeping agent that the Dynamic Duo had and now he knew what it felt like.  He had also heard that nobody could wake up from the spray without some other sort of Bat-spray.  Until now, anyway.

            Leon was physically strong, mentally fit and, he now knew, able to fight his way out of a drug-induced slumber.  How long had he been asleep?  He had no way of knowing.  The sun was just making its majestic appearance over the next mountain so he knew it was early morning.  It had been twilight when he had been knocked out by the Caped Crusader so Leon figured he had been out for eight or ten hours.  Unless he had slept through an entire day – then it could be thirty-two to thirty-four hours.  But Bat-spray wouldn’t last that long.  Would it? 

            There was a loud roar and Leon gingerly got to his feet.  Walking painfully to the mouth of the cave – every step made cymbals crash against his head – the henchman looked over the edge of the precipice.  The shadowy outline of the Catmobile came into focus and Leon watched in astonishment as a tiny Batman gently placed an even tinier Robin in the Batmobile parked right behind it.

            How had the kid escaped?!  It didn’t matter because Leon was also about to escape.  He glanced back at Catwoman, who was still lost in dreamland and mewling softly.  His eyes skimmed over to Felix, who had his mouth open and was snoring like a pig.  Two completely opposite people that would be going to the same place: up the river.  But not Leon.  Smirking at his former boss and her idiotic other henchman, the strong man walked out of the cave and began the long trek down the mountain.

* * *

**Six weeks later:**

            _POW!  SMASH!  OOOOOFFFF!_

            Robin was having a blast.  It was his first _real_ fight after a week and a half of chasing and capturing lazy criminals who obviously didn’t have any fighting experience.  Batman had just hit a goon in the gut, folding him in half and sending him stumbling back.  The man staggered right into the ready fists of the Boy Wonder, who quickly took him down with a double-fisted punch to the head.

            “Robin,” a voice hissed from the shadows.  The teenager glanced back but his attention immediately returned to the fight when a vase came flying toward his head.  The sound was pushed to the back of his mind as he ducked then grabbed a chair and broke it over the back of the man who was about to attack Batman from behind.

* * *

            Leon had disappeared into the darkness when Batman and Robin had entered the room.  His new boss yelled for his henchmen to go after the Dynamic Duo and everyone had obeyed.  Everyone except Leon, who was now standing in the shadows and glaring at the Boy Wonder.

            The strong henchman grinned; the kid was healthy and Leon was going to take him down.  Robin had been so cocky, taunting him about _nearly_ losing with one arm tied behind his back and smirking when Leon had mentioned how much he was anticipating impressing Catwoman by defeating the Bat-kid.  _Nearly_ wouldn’t apply to this situation because it was going to take him less than a minute to knock the boy out cold.

            “Nice work, Robin,” the tone of approval in Batman’s voice made Leon scowl.  At least he would get to beat up the “Boy Wonder” in front of the Caped Crusader.  Unless Batman jumped in to help.  Shrugging, Leon stepped from the darkness.

            “Robin,” he sneered.  “I was hoping I would see you again someday.  We never finished our business.  You know, the transaction we started at the museum a while ago?  You’re healthy, right?  Because this time I want you to lose without any excuses.  ‘My arms are tied behind my back.  I’m hacking up a lung.  Poor me’.”  Leon turned his sneer into a whine as he mocked the Boy Wonder.

            The young crime-fighter’s eyes narrowed in anger.  He didn’t say it, but Robin had really been hoping to see Leon again someday, also.  The man had _shut him up_ and the teenager wanted to prove a point.  Beat him up, break some bones, shoot him, sure.  Get him to stay quiet?  No.  That wasn’t supposed to happen, that was his _trademark_ , but a henchman had forced Robin to choose to stop talking.

            Batman strode toward the man but Robin unexpectedly jumped in between them.

            “I got this,” the Boy Wonder growled.  Batman hesitated, the familiar-looking man was obviously extremely strong.  Then he recognized the goon – Leon.  Nodding to himself, the Caped Crusader stepped back and allowed his partner to take over.

            “How long do you think it will take me to knock you out?  You’re strong and tough, I admit that.  So I’ll say…two minutes.  Sound about right?”  Robin was smirking as they began circling around the room.

            “I’ll take you down in less than that,” Leon snarled.  He suddenly jumped forward and swung as hard as he could, aiming for the boy’s chest.  Instead of flesh and bones he hit air as Robin dropped to a crouch.  Putting all his weight on his hands, the teenager shoved both feet into the man’s chest.  Leon stumbled back, his eyes wide with surprise.

            “I’m kind of athletic; didn’t Catwoman mention that?”

            Leon feinted a right hook then lowered his shoulder and aimed for the boy’s solar plexus.  Robin, not at all fooled by the feint, stepped to his left and allowed the goon to plow past him.  Whirling around, his face red with anger, Leon stomped back toward the Boy Wonder.  Carefully, so that neither hero would notice, the henchman pulled a pair of brass knuckles out of his back pocket and slipped them on his right hand.

            “That move was a little too predictable.  Your feint was rather sloppy and, therefore, easily identifiable.”

            A meaty left fist swung toward Robin’s head.  He ducked and was met with a brass-knuckled punch to the chin.  His head snapped back and he saw stars.

            “Was that unpredictable enough for you, kid?”

            “Robin.”  Batman used the word as a question and Robin shook his head in reply.

            “That was pretty good, henchman.  I wasn’t expecting that.”  It was slightly painful to talk but the Boy Wonder wasn’t going to allow this man to shut him up again.

            “My name is Leon, not henchman.  It’s a name you’re going to remember for a long time.”

            “And my name is Robin, not kid,” the young crime-fighter countered.  “But you already knew that.  I must have made quite the first impression.”

            “Robin.”  This time the word was a warning: finish this or I’ll take over.

            Rolling his eyes, Robin feinted a leg sweep.  Leon took the bait and jumped.  Robin was facing Leon so he twisted himself into a back handspring and finished the henchman off with a strong kick to the head.  The man’s chin snapped over his shoulder and he dropped limply to the ground.

            Glancing at his Bat-watch, Robin looked at his partner and grinned.  “Almost exactly two minutes.”

            “If you hadn’t talked so much it would have been less than one.  That was very inefficient, Robin.”

            “Holy lecture, Batman, this guy threatened to twist my leg in half if I didn’t shut up!  He made me _choose_ to be quiet; I had to get him back!”

            Half amused and half irritated, Batman shook his head.  “It was still inefficient.”

            “Do you have somewhere else to be?” Robin yelled in exasperation.  “Because there were no conscious villains or henchmen that needed to be taken care of while I was fighting him!  Nobody was trying to escape and it’s only ten o’clock!  Sorry if I wasted your time,” he mumbled as he marched out the door in the direction of the Batmobile.

            _Teenagers!_   Robin was a crime-fighting hero, yes, but he was also a teenager with a strong personality.  Taunting and smirking were his trademarks, and Batman realized that was something that would never change.

            The Caped Crusader double-checked all the criminals.  When he was sure they were all tightly secured, he strode out the same door as the Boy Wonder.  He climbed in the Batmobile and reached for the Batphone extension.

            “I already called it in,” Robin stated grumpily.  “Chief O’Hara is on his way.  Was that _efficient_ enough for you?”  His arms were folded tightly across his chest and he was glaring at the gauges in front of him.

            Batman began to chuckle and Robin’s glare darkened as he shifted it over to the man.

            “You were right, Robin.  He needed to know that he was incapable of keeping you quiet.”

            The Boy Wonder’s mouth dropped open and he stared at the Caped Crusader in shock.  Batman had just admitted that Robin was _right_?!

            “And,” Batman continued, “there were no other urgent matters.  As you said, everyone else was knocked out so you had some extra time.  For me, that was inefficient.  However, _you_ are not _me_.  The taunts and smirks are part of your style.  Fight the way you want, as long as it doesn’t endanger anyone else.  Understand?”

            The always-has-something-to-say Robin was speechless so he merely nodded.  The Batmobile roared to life and Batman chuckled again as he began the drive back to the Batcave.

THE END


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